How Things Could Have Been
by ice-connoisseur
Summary: AU. '20 years,' she spat angrily, 'of nothing but blackness, and you say you hold the key to it. I don't care about your 'concerns'. Give me back my past.' Lily and James Potter died on 31st October, 1981. Or not, as the case may be...
1. In Which it all Begins

Disclaimer – Hmmm…lets see…do I live in Scotland? Do I have three children and a husband? Do I have my own publishing deal and website? Do I have blonde hair? Since the answer to all these questions is a resounding no, then I think its safe to say I'm not JKR, and despite wishing on every star, lamp and 50 pence piece I've come across, I still don't own Harry Potter. Actually, that's not strictly true. I do have blonde hair. Still doesn't qualify me for HP ownership. Darn.

Greetings! I return, at long last! This story, first published last September and then abandoned, is finally making a come back! Its be revamped and rewritten until the only thing it really has even remotely in common with the original is the title. The plots changed, especially at the start, as ye all shall see. I rather hope this is a good sight better than the original, as well, as I was reading over it before I began re-writing, and think I can safely say it was utter rubbish. However, thus far I am quite pleased with the new version, and hopefully it will stay that way!

Dedication – Well, who else, but Beth? A rather strange child who shares a home, computer, and countless story ideas and theories with me, and who has practically re-written this story for me. Or at least given me several parts of the new plot. So, my temporary muse, you get this one. But you have to share it with Kate, and not argue about it. So Beth and Kate, my guiding beacons, this is for the pair of you, to keep you occupied now we've abandoned you to a life of Argoed without us.

I have decided to publish this today (Monday 10th July 2006) in recognition of it being 1 year to the day since I discover this site, and the amazing world that is fanfiction. Hums happy birthday And now I'm off to Berlin! Enjoy!

As many of you have hopefully realised, today is not the 10th July. That is because when I tried to update last Monday the entire of fanfiction appeared to have stopped working, for some unbeknownst reason. Therefore I decided to start posting today instead, seeing as how its one year since the publication of HBP. After this, updates will be every Monday.

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So, at long last, it is with great pleasure that I present to you….

How Things Could Have Been – Mark 2

_By Emma Nelder_

Cam Jones moved aside her curtains for a moment, peering out into the darkened lane. The lanterns bobbed in the hedgerow, stretching along the track and round the bend, where they would eventually meet the road. It was something she and Mark had done every Halloween for several years now – decorating their bumpy track with lanterns and fairy lights to encourage the trick or treaters. Ever since the death of their only child, 10 years ago now, and the slow realisation they would never have anymore, the Jones's had thrown themselves instead into the lives of any and every child to pass through the neighbourhood, organising games and events throughout they year, and the "Halloween Trail" as it had been christened, was just one of them.

Most of the children had been round by now, and Cam was just debating whether she could turn the lights off when she saw two figures making their way up the garden path. They appeared to be staggering, leaning against each other for support, and something about the way they were moving told Cam this was no Halloween costume. She rushed to the back door, wrenching it open just as the pair reached it.

A man and a woman, in ragged clothes, with fresh cuts covering their bodies, stood there. The man wore glasses, with one lens missing and the other cracked, and the woman's left arm hung at an angle that no human arm should have been able to.

"Oh my…" Cam gasped. "Mark!" She shouted back into the house. "Mark, phone an ambulance." She turned back to the pair. "Come in." She said, ushering them inside. But they didn't move, apparently unable to take another step, instead standing on the threshold, leaning against the doorpost to remain upright.

Mark rushed down the stairs. "Cam?" he called, "Cam, what's wrong? What's happ…oh god." He had run into the kitchen and was staring in horror at the pair on their doorstep.

"Mark, ambulance." Said Cam sharply. Her husband was not good at the sight of blood.

"What happened?" He asked, hand reaching for the phone. Cam shook her head.

"Not now Mark." She snapped. The woman, however, had opened her mouth.

"Voldemort." She gasped, her eyes wide.

Cam shook her head, reaching out the stop the woman falling over. The word seemed to have agitated them both, and the woman was swaying dangerously.

Behind her, Mark was speaking into the phone. "No, no, just turned up…hang on," He put his hand over the receiver. "She wants to know if we have any idea who they are, or what could have happened to them." He said, looking at his wife. She had lead the woman over to a chair, and was helping the man across the kitchen.

"She keeps saying something like 'Voldemort', but I've no idea what she means." Said Cam, sitting the man down. "What's your name?" This was spoken to the pair again.

"James." Said the man in a raspy voice. "James and Lily. Potter."

"Voldemort." Muttered the woman once more, and then, so quietly Cam, who was coming over to her, would later doubt she even heard it, "Harry." And she collapsed, a thud from behind Cam telling her the same thing had happened to the man.

The ambulance arrived and whisked them off, but not before Cam thrust their phone number into the hands of a young medic, who promised the ring with any news. And she did, the next morning at about 9 o'clock, sounding absolutely exhausted, and admitting, after questioning, that she had only just got off her shift after a particularly busy night. The Potters, she said, had been stabilised, and were currently in the intensive care ward. Neither of them had woken since the night before, and did Cam have any idea what had happened to them? Cam replied to the negative, and instead asked if she and Mark could come in and visit. Naomi, the medic, told her to ring the hospital.

So she did just that, and after almost an hour of talking and arguing with various doctors, was told that since the Potters had no relatives that were coming forward, they were welcome to visit. Mark grumbled about loosing his afternoon, but drove over with her anyway.

The Potters were lying in a small room, two beds side by side, hooked up to more bleeping instruments and flashing lights than your average spaceship. They had been cleaned up, given hospital clothes to replace the tattered rags they had been wearing, and the wounds dressed. They looked much younger in the stark hospital lighting – Cam wouldn't have said they were older than 25. A doctor had come in and talked to them, and explained that as far as they could see they had treated all injuries – there was no damage to the internal organs, both brains were functioning properly, and aside from a couple of broken ribs for James, and Lily's broken arm, they were all in one piece. All they could do now was wait for them to wake up.

So they did. For nearly 6 weeks the Potters lay silent in their room, surrounded by the bleeps and whirs of the machines. The doctors said they had slipped into comas, and there was nothing they could do now but hope. And Cam hoped. Mark teased her, saying her heart was getting in the way of her head, but he still entered into helping to try and trace their relatives. The hospital had allowed them to take photos, and Cam plastered the local villages and towns with them. But it was to no avail. And so when Lily and James woke up, simultaneously, almost 6 weeks to the day after collapsing in Cams kitchen, they had nothing left of their lives. Not even their own memories.

The hospital were suddenly presented with a rather complex problem at this point. Lily and James Potter were physically sound, but, for obvious reasons, could not be discharged. When Cam arrived one Sunday afternoon, two weeks after Lily and James had both woken, she was shocked to discover there were plans in place to send the pair to Meadowside, a hospital that specialised in memory loss. It was also in Scotland – a good six hour drive from their Somerset home. So, on arrival home that night she informed Mark to set up the guest bedroom, and make the bed in Gwen's old room, much to his bewilderment. Gwen's room had lain practically undisturbed for nearly ten years, aside from a few bouts with a hoover and duster, and it was as much shook from Cams no nonsense way of telling him that someone was going to sleep in it as much as anything. Even after Cam explained that after yelling at various hospital officials for the better part of the afternoon, she had eventually persuaded them that the Potters would be best off in a normal home, with regular visits to the counsellors at the hospital. And so, 3 months after they first appeared, the Potters came back to The Stables.

The following few months had been interesting to say the least. Lily and James, according to the specialists, had a particularly interesting type of amnesia. Of course, the specialists thought all types of permanent amnesia were interesting, but even so. And so Cam, whose patience could outlast a saints, started teaching them again.

Writing and speech came first, re-teaching them turning out to be much easier than Cam had expected. The Doctors had said it was due to the type of amnesia – the memories were locked away by the mind, possibly due to some traumatic event, but some would come back naturally, seeping their may through from the subconscious when the conscious was reminded of them It had been curious too, watching the pair interact. Cam presumed that they must have been in love – they were married, after all, if the shared name and wedding rings were anything to go by, and yet, of course, they had no memory of meeting, going out, kissing, falling in love at all. But in the end, Cam decided, love was like reading and writing – you reminded yourself of it consciously, and the subconscious decided it was true as well. It had been one evening – Lily had gone out to check on the horses, and James had followed her. They had been gone sometime, and when Cam had opened the door to go and find them, she had seen them standing by the field gate, kissing like there was no tomorrow, and rather bewildered looking Snippet standing behind them. After this first show of true affection – in her head, Cam called it their second-first kiss – a cork seemed to have been unstopped. Nothing changed dramatically about their behaviour, or their manner, it was more a sort of feeling you got from them, and air of "yes, I love him/her. I forgot it for a bit, and now I remember, so its not going to change anything really."

But of course, in the end, it had. Cam noticed it one Saturday, when she and Lily were trailing round town, and Lily slowed down as they passed the estate agents, examining the properties in the windows. That evening, she questioned them both over dinner, and eventually James admitted it.

"It's not that we don't enjoy living here." He said hastily. "But we've been here almost a year now, and we need to start getting ourselves set back up on our own two feet again. Or four feet." He blushed, looking apologetic. But Cam and Mark smiled and nodded, and agreed, and so, the Great House Hunt began.

Both James and Lily had been working for some months now, but even so they would never have been able to afford a house on their own. It had taken some time for the officials to work out exactly what should be done, and in the end they paid an upfront payment of £75,000, with promises of an extra £1000 a year for the next five years to "get them going."

Even with the extra money, it seemed as though the Potters had no hope of finding a house within a 10-mile radius of Cam and Mark. The local area had become a hotspot for second homes, and so they were lucky if they found anywhere under £150, 000. They were almost giving up, when, one evening in late November, Mark came bursting into the house.

"I've found it!" he cried, waving a piece of paper. "I've found the house!"

This, understandably, caused much excitement, but Mark, who has a rather dry and evil sense of humour refused to tell them any more details, other than that he had the key, and they were going to look at it right now this minute. Chattering excitedly, the other three had followed him out and headed to the car. Mark, however, ignored the car, and marched straight over the courtyard. Bewildered the others followed him. He stopped triumphantly outside the door of the run down building opposite. He inserted a key, and swung the door pen triumphantly.

_A moment may be taken now to explain the layout of the area surrounding the Jones' house. Once the centre of a busy farm, their own house was the original farmhouse, a long rectangle, with the never used front door on one of the longer sides. One of the shorter sides faced a large cobbled court yard, with the track winding away down to the main roads. At the other end of the house was another court yard, this one newer, built many years ago even so, and next to this was the stables. _

_On the opposite side of the front courtyard, however, there was a converted…thing. No one was quite sure what building it had been originally – some said a barn, some said a cow shed, and one village legend said one of the farmers many years ago had had two wives and so built them a house each. But whatever its original purpose, it was a house, with two floors, an attic, a good sized garden, and was under £90,000. It also had a hole in the roof, rotted beams and a great possibility of whole nomadic tribes having taken up residency in the garden, but the Potters didn't care. It was, or would be, home._

Of course, it had taken a lot of work to make the place habitable again; Lily and James were still paying off the loans they had taken out that year nearly 15 years later. But eventually, in October of the following year, two years after the strange pair had first turned up at Cams kitchen door, they moved in. They retook their wedding vows three months later, and so the Potters second life truly began.

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And there we have it! The prologue! Please read and review. Constructive criticism will be much appreciated, flames will be used to cremate one of our hens that died yesterday. Updates shall be every Monday.

By the way, all the figures in this chapter were made up. I have no idea what the government do with people who have no past, I can't imagine it's a problem which comes up an awful lot. And I'm no expert on amnesia, so I made all that up too. If anyone knows any better, please let me know.

And now….off to Berlin!


	2. In Which the Ball Begins to Roll

Chapter two! And someone please review! I know there wasn't a chapter alert sent out last week, cos I was only replacing an already written chapter, but this week there is no excuse!

This chapters a bit slow, but necessary to explain what's been happening, and what's different from the actual books…

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Life, Lily Potter had decided long ago, was a very odd thing, and something she was not always sure she was grateful to have a hand in. It took from you, and then gave back, but sometimes what it gave back was never quite enough to make up for what it had taken in the first place. To her, life had given 15 years with a wonderful husband, three beautiful children, and comfortable home, an amazing friend….and at least 20 years of nothingness. Probably more, the doctors had said, but they couldn't tell for sure. Lily wasn't sure what disturbed her most – the lack of her own memories, or the apparent lack of her entire existence.

For the first few years, she and her husband had tried in vain to discover some sort of past for themselves, some background. But there was none. No dental or school records, not even a marriage certificate. If it weren't for the wedding ring on Lily's finger, she would not have known she was married. And even then, they had had to stage a re-take of vows to make it legal.

So Lily Potter lived, in a messy cottage in Southern England, with her husband, three children, and a large black dog, and wondered. She wondered about her past – her childhood, her friends, her family. And she wondered about the child. It had only been when Jane, who was the eldest, had been born that doctors had informed Lily she had another child. Had had, anyway. Despite years of searching, no trace could be found of any child, which was unsurprising really. The Potters didn't know the child's name, its age, even if it was a boy or a girl. They simply knew it existed.

Sighing to herself, Lily shook her head to clear her thoughts. Dwelling on the past was never a good thing, especially if you couldn't remember it. Instead, she headed for a small, well lit room that had been added onto the end of their house some years ago, when Gemma, the Potters middle child, had been born, forcing her mother out of the room she had once used as a studio. The new room, which wasn't really new anymore, but was still referred to as the new room, was light, airy, and everything Lily had ever wanted for her painting. A battered but beloved easel, rescued by James many years ago from a car boot sale, stood in the centre of the room, facing alternate directions depending on Lily's mood. A bench stood on one side of the door, and a set of kitchen cupboards the other on the wall that had once been the outside of the house. A rack was fixed to one of the side walls, and a display board showing certificates, photographs and pictures collected from various events over the years was on the other.

But it was the front wall that was Lily's pride and joy. The windows started a foot of the ground, and rose up half way up the sloping roof. Each one opened separately, and blinds ran the whole length of them, creating an odd zebra like pattern on the back wall on hot days. The floor was tiled, and covered in paint splashes, and the three remaining walls were simple white paint over the original brick work. It was Lily's den, her haven, and she loved it.

Settling down in front of her easel, Lily threw one of James old shirts over her shoulders and tied her hair back in a loose bun, which would undoubtedly come loose later and annoy her for the rest of the afternoon, but such was life. Picking up her brush, Lily began examining her latest creation with a critical eye. She had long ago discovered that her best work fell into the realms of fantasy – dragons, centaurs, mysterious castles and secret cottages. Sometimes, she would sit and stare at the black page in front of her and the picture would be half drawn before she'd even realised it. One of her favourites was of an old man with white hair, blue eyes and a crooked nose. Jane had called him Gandalf, but Lily sometimes wondered if there was more to those paintings than she and James had at first thought. After all, the councillors at the hospitals and clinics they had visited over the years had all said that the subconscious may well be trying to reclaim the memories it was blocking in any number of strange ways, and she saw no reason why this couldn't be one of them. "Gandalf" had been sold, but the postcard was kept, pinned up on the board with a collection of others that had appeared in a similar way, which James and Lily would look at some evenings, trying desperately to notice a link.

Most paintings were sold – Lily had a regular spot in several markets around the county, as well as supplying a few shops when business was slow. But there were two that had been kept. One was of a lake, with a huge tree by the side of it. Five or six indistinct figures were seated under the tree, and a strange shadow could be seen moving through the lake, but somehow Lily felt the shadow wasn't as threatening as it looked.

The second picture couldn't have been more different. It was darker – night time – and a full moon hung at the top, over a rambling castle. The tree stood in front of it, and around it stood the most curious collection of creatures. A white stag, its head high, was pawing the ground on one side of the tree, and there was a small grey rat clinging to its antlers. On the other side, a large black dog was tumbling around with what looked like a wolf, except that the proportions were wrong. It was this painting that was Lily's pride and joy – it hung in the living room, but was taken down regularly and displayed at markets to encourage buyers to the stall. Once, many years ago, she had been asked by a costumer where she got her inspiration, and without thinking, Lily had replied "I see the pictures in my dreams." The woman had looked at the oddly, and bought a postcard, before hurrying off. But it had been true, Lily realised later, when she thought back on the encounter. She didn't remember dreaming about the white stag, or the lake, or the old man with the twinkling eyes, but when she painted them, they seemed to familiar she was sure she must have dreamt them.

Lily was dragged out of her paintings some hours later, when her middle daughter poked her head round the door.

"Mum?" She said hesitantly. Interrupting Lily Potter when she was in the flow of painting was a hazardous occupation. Lily jumped, and spun round.

"What?" She snapped.

Gemma grinned. "Dad said to tell you Cam and Mark'll be here in a minute." Lily's outbursts when she was interrupted were expected, and generally viewed with much humour by her family.

Lily sighed and lay own her paint brush. Cam and Mark were the Potters oldest friends, that they could remember anyway, and most Saturday nights would find the Potters at their neighbours house, or vice versa.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, Lily headed for the sink, and began to contemplate what method she would use to try and remove the paint from her self today. This never worked – Lily always left with a bit of paint somewhere about her person – there was a prize in the Potter household for who could spot it first, with a tally chart to keep track. The best one to date had been when Gemma had spotted a bit on the sole of her left foot. To this day no-one knew how it had got there – Lily had been wearing shoes when she was painting…

Sometime later that night, Cam Jones sat at the Potter table, and, unlike her friend, decided life was a truly blessed thing. She still remembered vividly the night hers had changed forever, and she thanked god for it everyday. This doesn't sound too remarkable, until you realise that Cam Jones is a strict Atheist, and therefore doesn't even believe in a god. So to be thanking one for anything is rather disturbing in her mind, but she could live with it.

The room was filled with chatter – The Potters youngest, and only son, Jack, was busy informing Mark on the finer workings of his schools new play area, Jane, the eldest, was chatting to her mother about something, and Gemma, in the middle, was trying to mould her mashed potato into a modal of Paddy, the dog, who was asleep by her chair. James glanced up at his friend and smiled slightly

"Cam?" he said, waving his hand in front of her eyes.

She blinked, and returned his smile.

"Sorry James. Lost in me head." She said in her lilting welsh accent. Cam, full name Cambree Jones, nee Davies, had grown up in a little known area of North Wales, where the chickens were deadly, the roads half the size of your average car, and saviours of the world were regularly produced from the green walled schools. All these facts are true, but irrelevant this particular story, so we shall move on.

James laughed. "I could tell. I was asking you how Scat was getting on."

Cam smiled at the mention of her latest acquisition. Scat, a small tabby kitten, had been dragged out of a road-side ditch by Paddy several weeks ago, and Jane had instantly laid claim to the kitten. But since she was an unfortunate being and cursed with the life of school, Scat currently lived with Cam, who was home all day and able to keep an eye on the kitten, and stop Paddy trying to eat her.

"She's doing great. Spent Thursday afternoon on the stable roof after Nic-Nac tried to chew her tail."

James shook his head with amusement. "That cats going to run out of lives within a month at this rate. The ditch, Paddy, that incident with the river, and now the horses."

Cam laughed. "She's a tough little thing, I'll grant her that."

"When can she come and live with us dad?" Jane interrupted, having been listening in on the conversation ever since the word "Scat" had been mentioned.

"Soon love. Give her chance to get a bit bigger, or Phoenix will have her living in the washing machine." James replied patiently, glancing over at the large golden-ginger cat that ruled the animal part of the Potter household, and had once reduced Paddy, whose head very nearly reached Lily's waist, to a bundle of shivering fur in the corner of the shed.

Jane sighed impatiently. "Nix will be the one in the washing machine if she's mean to Scat." She said darkly, glaring at the cat in question. "She's a bully."

James laughed. "You can't blame her for defending her territory Jane. Give it a couple of weeks, and we'll see."

"Humph." Jane muttered, looking suddenly so much like her mother that James laughed, earning him a further glare from his daughter, which only deepened his mirth.

And so, the evening passed, and the two families laughed and talked and laughed, and as the Jones's left, much much later on, they made plans for a barbeque the following week, not knowing that by then their lives would, once more, have been turned upside down.

About 100 miles away, maybe more, maybe less (my geography's not that good) the final Potter lay asleep. He had been gripped in the thrall of a nightmare, but that had passed, and now he lay with his legs where his head should be and the duvet making its slow journey to join its friend the pillow on the floor. They were not the only objects littering the small rooms even smaller floor space. Newspapers were piled high in one corner, and the front page of the top one can just be made out in the dim moonlight.

"Fudge Fired after You-Know-Who Fiasco" was the heading above a moving picture of a short, balding man talking to a crowd of reporters, twisting a bowler hat in his hands. "Cornelius Fudge has been voted from office after it was revealed just two weeks ago that, despite assurances to the country from ministry officials, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had indeed returned to full strength one year ago. The exact details of his resurrection are unknown, but there is an un-verified rumour that The-Boy-Who-Lived was present at the event. The Ministry are also withholding details of the Dark Lords second defeat, two weeks ago, although it is rumoured that it took place within the Ministry itself, and that, once again, Harry Potter was the source of You-Know-Who's downfall."

A magazine was slipping of the small wooden desk next to the newspaper pile – the front page displaying the legend "Voldemort – Gone for Good? An exclusive interview with Albus Dumbledore, who shares his thoughts on whether He-Who-MustNot-Be-named has been defeated for the final time."

It was held onto its fragile perch only by a large cage containing a snowy owl, also asleep, her head under her wing. A large trunk stood open at the foot of the bed, its contents spreading across the floor, and lying open on the bedside table was a battered, much fingered photo album, the figures on the page waving merrily up at the ceiling.

All in all, an observer casually peering through the windows would see nothing to indicate that the occupant of this room was anything other than a fairly normal boy, save the whole wizardry thing, and the thought that he may in fact be suffering from sever psychological torment may never cross their mind. Which is incorrect, for Harry Potter is far from being an ordinary boy, and has, over his short life, suffered much psychological and physical torment. As little as 4 weeks ago he faced, for the fifth time, the most evil wizard of the 20th Century, and succeed in not only coming out alive, but also tearing him from his body once more. In the process, however, he had lost the closest thing he suspected he would ever have to a parent, and discovered the true course his life would take, which wasn't a very pleasant one. But for now, Harry Potter slept soundly, blissfully unaware that many miles away, and several hours earlier, events had unfolded that would change his life forever. Again.

Remus Lupin knocked nervously on wooden door in front of him, suitcase in one hand. He shifted from foot to foot, glancing up at the seemingly empty house in front of him. He could hear barking coming from somewhere inside, and then, moments later, a woman's voice.

"Oh Barty, shut up. Its just the door. Get out of the way Scraps, you're going to break my leg one of these days."

There was a rattling, and then the door began to open. A black nose appeared, forcing the door the remainder of the way open and erupting from inside, followed by a smaller brown blob. Remus staggered back, and was only vaguely aware of the woman's voice shouting again.

"Barty, what have I told you about jumping?" The blobs were suddenly hauled off, and Remus heard a door slam. Wiping his face on his robe, he looked at the woman in front of him for the first time. She was small, neatly dressed with greying hair and a stern face.

"Sorry." She said briskly. "The boys get so excited when we have visitors. You must be Remus. Come in." She stepped back, and Remus rather apprehensively made his way across the threshold. The front door opened into a small passageway. with several other doors leading off it – one was shut, and from the scratching noises coming through it Remus guessed that was where the dogs had been put.

"Just along the hallway, second on the left." Called the woman, shutting the door. Obediently, Remus followed her instruction and moved along the hall, taking in the pictures of dogs that covered every available surface, and the small polished table that was laden with photos.

The room he had been directed into was of medium size, and probably the living room – a sofa and two arm chairs surrounded a television, and there was a row of book shelves along the back wall. Glass doors stood open at one end, opening out into a fairly large garden, and on the sofa lay a large shaggy dog, who raised its head and growled half-heartedly at him as Remus entered.

"Leave your case here for the moment dear, I'll show you upstairs later." Said the woman, coming in behind him. "You must be exhausted. I've got tea in the kitchen, or coffee, or there's some whiskey in the cabinet if you feel like something stronger…"

"Tea would be lovely. Said Remus with a smile, and she bustled out again. Remus moved towards the photos on one of the bookshelves, examining them.

"I was so pleased when Dumbledore wrote and asked if you could stay." The woman called above the clatter of mugs and plates from the kitchen. "This old place gets so empty with just me and the dogs, it'll be nice to have some company."

She appeared in the door way again, holding a tray laden with two mugs and a pate of biscuits.

"There now." She said, setting the tray down on a small table by the sofa. "Do sit down. Mouse, what have I told you about sleeping on the furniture? Off!" With a groan, the dog heaved itself to its feet, looked woefully up at its mistress, before padding outside.

"I am sorry." The woman said, brushing at the dog hairs. "She just sneaks on when my backs turned."

"Its fine." Said Remus, sitting down and accepting the mug offered. He glanced down at it, frowning for a moment.

"Would you like sugar in it?" The woman asked, misreading his frown.

"What? Oh, no, sorry. I was just thinking…surely muggle kettles take longer to boil than that?"

She had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "Well, you know. When one has relatives in the magical world, it is very hard not to accept the odd small favour."

Remus smiled, and sipped at his tea.

"I cant thank you enough for agreeing to put me up for a while, Mrs Jenkins." He said, placing the mug back on the table.

The woman laughed, and shook her head. "Isabelle, please. And its no trouble. Like I said, I get very lonely here sometimes, and now the school year is over all my student lodgers have left."

Remus nodded. "And Dumbledore told you about my..er..my problem." He asked after a moments pause.

"Yes, yes. I've got a room upstairs that was used for storage –I've cleared it out, and the dogs aren't allowed up there anyway. Dumbledore said you would be able to get hold of wolfsbane, so there's not a problem there. I've got a spare house key in the kitchen for you, so you can come and go without having to worry if there will be someone home." She smiled, satisfied that her job of welcoming her latest "lodger" was done. "Now." She said, setting down the mug. "I'll show you to your room."

It had been Dumbledore's idea, of course, for Remus to move out of Grimmuald Place for a while. Asides from the problem with exactly who the property belonged to now, Remus had a sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore exactly how he felt every time he went back there, still half expecting to see Sirius there to meet him. Mrs Figg had recommended her sister, another widow who took in university students during term time and would be more than happy to put Remus up for the summer. Like her sister, Isabella Jenkins was a squib, but instead of Mrs Figgs cat love, Isabella collected dogs of all shapes and sizes. By nine o'clock on the morning after he had arrived, Remus had already rooted one out from under his bed, one out of the wardrobe, two out of the bathroom and the giant Mouse of the sofa no less than three times. Isabella seemed totally unaffected by the dogs presence, moving around them as though they were not there at all as she served breakfast.

"I don't know what you've been up too, but its defiantly not been feeding you properly." She fussed, laying a plate laden with food in front of him. "Your as bad as some of the students I get in here."

Remus grinned into his egg, suddenly reminded rather forcefully of Molly Weasley.

"So what are planning to do while you're here? You'll be lucky to find much work, most of the places will have been taken by students on holiday by now."

Remus shook his head. "It's alright, I've got a job currently in London, so I'll apparate there save having to start all over again. I don't work Wednesdays." He added, seeing her meaningful glance at the clock.

"And what do you do?" She asked, clattering plates into the sink. Remus shrugged.

"Anything and everything. At the moment I work in a second hand book shop. Its not glamorous, but it pays."

"And the owners are muggles, so they aren't able to discover you're a werewolf and fire you." Added Isabella knowingly.

Remus blinked. "How do you know that?"

She shrugged. "I guessed. So what are you going to do with yourself for today then?"

It was Remus's turn to shrug. "I have no idea. Any suggestions?"

Isabella looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"Well," She said at last, "there's always the Market. Its quite impressive for a town of this size, all sorts of odds and ends."

Remus smiled. "Well, I might as well take a look then." He said, and thus, the ball of events was set rolling.

* * *

And there we have it! Review! Please! 


	3. In Which Realisations are Reached

Disclaimer – Nope. Nadda. No. Not mine.

Greetings! I hope you all had a good week, especially if you're a Brit, and it was the first week of the summer holidays for you.

Now, I have bad news. I go away this Thursday, so you won't be seeing me again for some time! Not until…28th August! That will be my next update! However, I shall hopefully get loads of writing done between now and then, 'cos I'm lagging behind a bit!

Oh, and go read my other "story", Harry Potter; The Musical, written by me and Beth – the last two chapters are going up this week!

Shameless plugging aside, many thanks to **raining flowers**, **Len87**, **Mei1105**, and **seikinoko **who all made me a very happy person by reviewing!

This chapter is dedicated to **seikinoko**, who was the only person to guess 100 correctly what Remus was going to do!

On with the chapter!

* * *

Panic reigned in the Potter household as Lily tried to load the car and make last minute decisions on which paintings she was taking to sell, and James wrestled with the collapsible postcard display stand. This was not unusual – it was a regular occurrence most Wednesdays, Saturdays, and occasionally Sunday mornings, but Lily swore that with each passing week it got more hectic. This particular Wednesday morning Jane had managed to drop a whole bottle of milk on the floor, James had got stuck in the door trying out a new way of packing the postcard rack, and Lily had lost her order book.

Eventually, however, the car was packed, the children had made up their minds as to who was going and who was staying, and Lily and Jane began to make their bumpy way down the track.

As always, the Potter pair managed to somehow arrive on time, finding their way to their usual spot and pulling out the stall. Jane, who had an eye for such things, began arranging the "for sale" board, hanging up a selection of paintings, and Lily started to hang their "advert" piece – the large picture of the four creatures that usually hung in their living room. Lily wasn't quite sure why she dragged it out every week – there were other paintings she could use just as easily, but somehow they never did, and anyway, people had come to expect the picture, looking for it in particular when they wanted the stall.

Remus moved through the market, pausing every now and again to examine the produce. He had arrived early – only the very keen market goers were up and about now, and it would be several hours before the crowds arrived in earnest, but Remus didn't mind. It meant he was able to wander at will, without worrying about bumping into people as his mind strayed, remembering another town, another market….

It was one of those rare occasions when Remus and James were left alone, with Sirius held up and work and Peter called to his frequently demanding mother. Nearly three years since they had left Hogwarts now, and the friendship between the four was just as strong, despite growing tensions in the wizarding world, but their days together were becoming fewer and further between. The only one Remus knew for certain he would see all his friends at next was boxing day, which since leaving Hogwarts had become the Marauders honorary Christmas – Sirius spent it wherever James was anyway, but both Remus and Peter, and Lily too for that matter, had family commitments for Christmas day itself.

_It was already mid-December now, and there was a cold nip in the air. Remus pulled his coat around himself, and, glancing across, saw Lily slipping neatly against James, his arm round her waist as they moved through the Christmas stalls if the market. It had been Lily's idea, the market, – it had been a tradition from her childhood that every Christmas her family go out to the nearest Christmas market to buy a new decoration at the very least, and so she had dragged the two men with her. Originally, all four Marauders were meant to have been in attendance – as currently the only female amongst them, Lily had taken it upon herself to ensure that they had all bought the correct Christmas presents – but the other two had cried off, Sirius stuffing a few gallons into Remus hand and asking him to buy presents for the only members of his family that would be receiving any from the renegade Black – his cousin Andromeda, her husband, and their young daughter._

_So here they were, moving between the stall, examining the strange clockwork toys that muggles had created to play bells and walk, or sing and stamp their feet, or marvelling at the more intricate decorations, hand painted and beautifully arranged. Lily bought a stained glass bauble, and several other decorations – it was her and James's first Christmas living together, and it seemed they were having a competition to see just how many decorations they could fit into one small flat. Lily had found a painted set of drink glasses for the Tonks's, and Remus himself had found a present for the child – a necklace, with a small stone that changed colour depending on the light hanging off it. From Sirius tales of the child's newly developing metamorphic abilities, it seemed somewhat appropriate._

_Making his way back to where he had left James and lily, Remus discover only James, frowning slightly at a group of children and teenagers valiantly battling to beat the noise of the market with an interesting rendition of White Christmas. _

"_That girls going to be knocked out in a minute." James said as Remus approached, indicating to where a blonde-haired girl clutching a rather large coil of metal tubing was in sever danger of being decapitated by the trombone player behind her. Remus smiled._

"_Looks like she's used to it."_

It was true – the girl kept leaning to one side every few minutes, apparently without looking round, avoiding the wilder thrusts of the trombone slide.

_Remus stood in silence for a while, watching the band and waiting for James to come out with whatever he was waiting to say. He was fidgeting nervously, a sure sign something was up, but unlike Sirius Remus knew when to wait and see. Instead, he examined the band, smiling slightly as they tried to turn pages without the small books they were using flying off into the street. The instruments were battered, and there was a definite lack of skill – a tall boy with longish blonde hair was clutching a tuba which would occasionally emit sounds that Remus was certain had never been played before, and one of the trombone players, a tiny boy, was having trouble keeping the bottle shaped object plugged in the bottom of his instrument – it kept falling out with a clang, making everyone in the vicinity jump. But they played with an enthusiasm that was unmatched, especially on a cold Sunday morning – one girl, playing what Remus thought was a trumpet, with black pigtails and pink gloves, kept dancing from side to side when she wasn't playing, causing the others to break out into giggles every few minutes. It was informal, it was chaos, and it made Remus smile. _

"_I'm going to ask Lily to marry me." Said James suddenly, without looking at his friend. Remus blinked – whatever he had expected it hadn't been that._

"_You sure?" he asked after a moment, recovering from the shook. James nodded sincerely._

"_Yes. The wars becoming more dangerous everyday, and selfish prat that I am I want to marry her before its too late."_

_Remus paused, trying to think how he could word the next sentence._

"_James, isn't this a bit…early?" he said carefully. "I mean, your only just 20, maybe you should wait a bit…you've not even been living together a year…"_

_James shook his head. "Nope. I'm going to ask her." _

_Remus smiled. "Then I wish you the best of luck. You deserve it, after all this time." _

_There was another silence, James apparently having said what he'd intended to say, and Remus contemplating another thought._

"_What did Sirius say?" He asked, wondering how the infamous womaniser would have reacted to the terrifying news that his best friend was "settling down"._

"_I've not told him yet." James said with a shrug. "I wanted to see what you thought first."_

"_What Remus thought about what?" Asked Lily, appearing suddenly from the crowd, laden with bags._

"_Oh, Peters present. I was telling Moony about that muggle-toy you were showing me, seeing what he thought." _

"_Its called a television James." Said Lily severely, apparently not noticing James awkward look as he lied through his hind teeth to the woman he loved._

"_That's the one." He said with a shrug, making to take one of the bags. Lily swiped his hand away playfully, and the pair began to move off._

"_Remus?" Lily called back. "You coming?"_

_Remus nodded, gathering his own belongings, a wide smile slowly spreading across his face at James's last words. It wasn't often that James would put his thoughts before Sirius's, and it was, he had to admit, quite a nice feeling. Remus began to push his way after Lily and James, but paused for a second as the band began to play again, this time tackling Sleigh Ride. He slipped his hand into his wallet, and tossed a few coins into the bucket, before hurrying after his friends, still smiling broadly. Even when you always knew it, deep down, it was nice to be told you were wanted and needed sometimes._

_Christmas had come and gone, and boxing day had revealed the contents of Lily's bag. Four wooden carvings, apparently found on a carpentry stall, of a wolf, a stag, a rat and a dog, given to their respective marauder. James had proposed during new year, and they had married the following summer. Then Harry had been born a year later, and a year after that it had al gone so horribly wrong…_

Remus could still picture the four carvings in his mind, as they had been when first torn from Lily's meticulous wrapping. He still had his, of course, and now Sirius's also – it had been one of the few things not left to Harry. James's, it turned out, had been rescued from the remains of the house in Godrics Hollow by Sirius when he tried to collect Harry, and now the three of them sat together on a shelf in his room at Mrs Jenkins. Remus wondered briefly what had happened to Peters – he presumed it had been lost or discarded many years ago, but some little part of him – the same part that had for years whispered that there was no way Sirius would have betrayed his best friend – liked to think that Peter still had it, a final reminder of his Hogwarts life. Remus tried to drag himself out of these thoughts – they never did anymore than depress him – but somehow he couldn't get the picture out of his mind. The stag, its head held high, the dog, the wolf, and the rat, spread out in front of him, under a full moon…wait…

Remus stopped in the middle of the path, staring straight in front of him in shook. They _were _spread out in front of him, under a full moon….the picture was hanging above a fairly small stall, apparently being run by a small girl, and showed the animals in so much detail for a moment Remus could almost believe he was running amongst them once more.

Shaken, Remus went closer, trying to think who could have seen them so close to get so much of the detail. It wasn't a portrait – the animals were moving upwards in a sort of spiral, with the moon at the very top, the castle silhouetted against it. Around the animals were spread the Whomping Willow, and what could have been the lake, and several other Hogwarts landmarks. The colours were dark, night time purples and blues, creating an almost magical atmosphere. Which, really, was quite appropriate.

Jane watched the man approached, puzzled by the transfixed look on his face. She enjoyed coming to the market – watching the different people hurry backwards and forwards, seeing the regulars, like old Mr Harper, who came every week and bought a postcard, and gave whichever child was on a the stall a 5 pence piece, so they could buy "a little something". He never elaborated on exactly what they could buy for 5-pence, but Lily had explained that when Mr Harper was a child you could do a lot of things with 5 – pence, and sometimes he forgot that that wasn't the case anymore. But this man was totally unlike any other customer Jane had seen before. He was gazing at the stall in rapture, eyes focused on the display at the back, appearing not to notice anything else.

"Hello." She said quietly, more to alert the stranger to the fact that if he didn't stop walking soon he would be ploughing his way through the stall itself than anything else.

Remus blinked and looked down at the girl in front of him, who was smiling up a little nervously, and the first word that came into his head was "_Lily_." She had the same coloured hair, pulled back off her face by a loose ponytail, and the same eyes, even the same nervous smile. It was as if the 11 year old girl he had meet on Platform 9 ¾ had been bought forward in time 30 years.

"Are you alright?" She asked, a frown replacing the smile, and Remus realised he was staring at her fixatedly. He shook himself mentally, and smiled.

"Sorry, spaced out for a moment."

The little girl nodded, not looking convinced.

"They're lovely paintings." Said Remus, searching for a way of finding out more about the artist.

"My mum does 'em." Said the girl, following his gaze to the large picture of the four creatures. "But that ones not for sale. We've got a postcard of it though."

"A postcard?" Remus was momentarily flummoxed.

"Yeah. Here." She handed him the rectangular card. "Cos lots of people like the paintings but don't want to buy the originals, so we do the little postcards too. But you don't have to send them if you don't want to."

Remus nodded absentmindedly, and began to examine the other postcards. Dragons, witches, centaurs, castles…there was defiantly a theme, he thought to himself with a slight smile. Whoever the artist was, and Remus was determined to find out, she must have been to Hogwarts…his heart nearly stopped when he saw a whole rack of cards, each displaying Dumbledores face. He took one in shaking hands, shocked that any witch would be foolish enough to paint such an obvious portrait of the wizard – anyone could see it, Death Eaters in particular. Voldemort was gone, at least for now, but his minions were still very much alive.

Remus was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice he hadn't heard in fifteen years, and had thought he would never here again.

"Can I help you at all?"

Remus jerked his head up to see a pretty woman with deep red hair and the same eyes as the girl he had spoken to earlier smiling at him. he paled.

"N…no." he stuttered, mind reeling in shock.

"Oh." The woman looked a bit surprised by his reaction. "Would you like to buy those?" she added after a pause. Looking down, Remus saw he was still clutching the postcards.

"Oh. Yes, please." He fumbled in his pocket and bought out some change, checking he had not accidentally handed over wizarding money.

The woman took the money, put the postcards in a paper bag, handed him his change and turned away to serve another customer. It was only when someone jostled him in the back that Remus realised he was staring, and he quickly left the stall, pulling the two cards out of the bag. A third, much smaller card, had been slipped in with them. Remus took it out, and read it with a heavy beating heart.

_Lily Potter, artist.  
__Commissions available.  
Insert web adress here. (Fanfic won't let it be shown)_

And that was it, a simple three lines printed on a small square of white card. Remus felt himself go cold all over, what little colour there was in his cheeks draining away. It was not possible! he turned the card over, searching for any more writing, an explanation perhaps, but there was none. Half his mind and all of his heart wanted to do nothing more than go back to the stall and shake answers from the owners, but Remus Lupin had been a werewolf for much of his life, and knew better than to act on instinct. Instead, he examined the card a third time, frowning over the bottom line. Although he had taken muggle studies at Hogwarts, he was not unaware that over the past few years muggles had made tremendous leaps in there efforts to live without magic, but had never had any thought to follow them in any great detail. The third line, so cryptic to Remus's eyes, may well mean something to someone with a muggle upbringing, especially if they still had contact with the muggle world. But finding someone who not only fitted that character, but he would be able to trust with this sudden news…was not all that difficult at all.

Struck with the sudden thought, Remus quickly headed for the nearest spot he could find in order to apparate without causing alarm.

To say Nyphandora Tonks was surprised when she opened her door to reveal a pale and out of breathe Remus Lupin was an understatement. It was her half day – she was not expected at the Auror headquarters before half noon, and had planned on spending the morning doing not very much at all, and finding the current object of her affection on her doorstep looking distinctly worse for wear was defiantly not what she expected.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked the minute the door was opened, apparently unaware of the surprise on Tonks face.

Tonks took the little piece of card and read it quickly.

"Looks like a business card to me, why?"

"No, not that. The bit on the bottom line."

Tonks looked at the card again, and suddenly realised why Remus had been so confused.

"Oh, that's a web address."

Remus looked at her, eyebrows raised questioningly, and Tonks felt an involuntary blush rise upwards from her neck.

"Muggles have this thing called the internet. Its like a massive book, thousands and thousands of pages, and if you run a business you can have a website that customers can look at to find out about you and your work."

"Do you have one?"

"What, a website?"

"No, an internet."

Tonks smiled slightly at the phrasing, but shook her head. "Sorry, never needed one. My dads got it though."

"Would he mind if I borrowed it?"

"You cant borrow the internet. But you could use his computer, if you need it."

Remus smiled. "Thank you."

"You'll need someone to help you." Tonks said after a moment. "Even muggles have difficulty with the net sometimes."

Remus hesitated. "Could you help?" He asked, feeling nervous for some reason, but Tonks smiled.

"'Course. Just let me get changed, and I'll be with you." Tonks suddenly realised that they were still standing on the doorstep. She ushered Remus in. "Make yourself comfortable." She called, indicating to the sofa in the room, and disappearing through a door.

Remus looked about himself with curiosity. He had never been in Tonks flat – he knew where it was only because he had come with Sturgis Podmore almost exactly one year ago to collect her before fetching Harry, and so made the most of the opportunity. It was small, with one large room serving as dining and sitting room, with three doors opening off – into, Remus presumed, a bathroom and bedroom, as well as the kitchen, who's door was open. The room he was in was messy, but not overbearingly so – magazines were piled up on the small table, her broom was propped inconspicuously in one corner behind a witling pot plant, and there were at least three single shoes spread across the room, although Remus could see no sign of their partners. He turned to examine some photos, propped up on the bookshelf along with several wonky looking ornaments, and jumped so much he nearly sent the whole thing flying.

A photo, half hidden by the others, containing five and a half small figures, was picked up gingerly in his trembling hands. Four boys were gathered around an infant girl, who was squirming in the arms of the boy who held her and trying to steal the glasses of one of the others. Half of a woman could be seen at the edge o the picture, a look of amusement tinged with disapproval. Remus turned the picture over, although he already knew what he would find.

Andie tries to make sure we don't …. Nym. It said in an untidy scrawl Remus would have recognised anywhere. Below Sirius's writing, in a much neater hand, was written Nymphandora's first birthday. James, Sirius, Peter, Remus and Nyphandora.

"Do you remember that?" A voice said at his shoulder, making Remus jump. He turned to see Tonks, changed, and grinning at the photo.

"Yep. It was the Easter holidays in our third year. I think your mum had begun to regret inviting all four of us by the end of the afternoon – Peter dropped one of your toys in the trifle, Sirius kept nicking the icing off the cake, and then you stole James glasses and he walked into a tree."

Tonks laughed. "Did I really? I don't remember."

Remus grinned at the memory. "You loved those glasses – every time we came over you tried to steal them."

Tonks examined the picture again. "That's James then." She said, pointing to the boy with the glasses. "And Sirius is holding me. So that's Peter," she pointed at a short boy who was eyeing the baby with a certain amount of apprehension, "which means that must be you." She pointed at the final boy, standing on the other side of Sirius to James, trying desperately to distract the baby from her never ending fight to reach the glasses.

"Got it in one."

Tonks looked pleased with herself. "Mum was always telling me stories about you lot, she always moaned when you came to visit, but secretly she loved it."

"I'm not sure what we came for more- Andies cooking or the company. Knowing the others, probably the cooking."

Tonks tried to look offended. "Excuse me, I happen to know I was marvellous company as a child. Mums got a photograph of the time I accidentally turned Peters hair pink."

Remus snorted. "I'll never forget the look on his face. A sort of embarrassment combined with utter horror."

Tonks shook her head, laughing. "It's really weird, the way you knew me when I was tiny, and then didn't know me for years, and now you know me again."

Remus nodded. "I know what you mean. I remember the first time I saw Harry, on the Hogwarts express, I couldn't believe it. I hadn't seen him since he was one. And I keep thinking, there's a whole year of his life that was probably the best one he has ever had, and he can't remember it, but I can. It seems odd to me, somehow."

There was a silence, each thinking there own thoughts. Then Tonks brightened. "Alright then, lets get going. What is it with this sudden interest in muggle websites of yours anyway?"

Remus sighed. "Its…odd. And probably quite silly. But I was at this little town market today, and I saw this artists stall."

"Right…" Tonks frowned, not following.

"There were theses paintings on it." Remus pulled the two postcards out of the paper bag, and showed them to Tonks, who gasped.

"But that looks like…"

"Sirius. Or Padfoot, I suppose. And the other one, too."

Tonks blinked. "Why would anyone paint pictures of Dumbledore? Or Hogwarts? And for all the world to see?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. But there's more. Look at the artists name."

Tonks looked at the business card. "Lily Potter." She said frowning, and Remus could almost see the cogs in her brain moving. Then…click!

"Oh Remus, you don't think…"

"I don't know. Its farfetched, and pretty stupid, I know. But I want to find out."

Tonks nodded. "Grab my arm. We came apparate."

Seconds later, Remus opened his eyes to find himself in front of a neat, well kept house in what looked like the suburbs of some town or city, most likely London. The garden was well weeded, the grass mown, and the whole place generally gave off an aura of good management and domestic happiness. Or it would have done if not for the strange, ear splitting, grinding noise emitting from one of the windows. Tonks shook her head.

"Sorry." She apologised. "My dad likes to experiment with instruments. He's convinced there's on out there for him. I thing he's trying the tuba at the moment." She made to move up the path, before stopping and glancing questioningly at Remus. He blinked, and suddenly realised he was still gripping her arm.

"Sorry." He apologised, blushing and letting go quickly. She smiled slightly, and turned back up the path.

"Nyphandora!" The door was flung open, and a tall, beaming woman stood there, arms outstretched towards her only child.

"Hello mum." Tonks said, hugging her mother.

"What are you doing here? We weren't expecting you until the weekend."

"Bought an old friend of yours to see you, and we need to use dads computer."

Andromeda Tonks stared at the man standing behind her daughter, and frowned slightly.

"Not…Remus Lupin?" She said after a moments pause.

"It's good to see you again Andie."

The woman looked him up and down for a moment, shaking her head slightly. "You're as skinny as ever. Come in anyway, I'm sure Tonks didn't drag you over here for a social visit."

Remus followed the witch through the door, Tonks coming in behind him.

"Not at all Anide, it was more me that dragged Tonks down here. She's going to show me how you use an internet."

Andie looked incredulously at her daughter, who shrugged.

"Don't ask me. I just said I'd help." She said, carefully avoiding any mention of the artist. Andie didn't look convinced, but she waved them through with a

"you know where the computer is."

Tonks lead Remus into a smaller room, containing several bookshelves bursting with books, a table covered in papers and a desk, on which sat a square screen. The incessant noise, which had quietened on entering the house, suddenly became loader again, and Tonks groaned.

"Sorry, his 'music room' is right next to this one, and there's only a partition dividing them." She waved her wand, and silence fell. "That's better. Right then, lets have a look."

* * *

Phew, quite a long chapter! I hope you all enjoyed…the flashback wasn't planned, it sort of sprang from no-where….and the brass band mentioned are based on the Holywell Town Youth Band. Its all true – we do possess more enthusiasm than skill. We also do have a mad cornet player with black pigtails, a lovely little trombone player who has an on-going battle with his mute, an interesting tuba player, and another trombone player who seems determined to decapitate me. There are others, and we all rock…anyway, everyone have a great Summer, and I'll see you at the end of August! We're going to Guernsey! Much much yeyness! 


	4. In Which Acquaintances are Made

Greetings! I return, at long last! I'm back of me holidays. except, I have been quilted into a music course that I'm not exactly dying to go on, hence this update being today instead of Monday.

Annnd….GCSE results are in…I got 8 A star's, 2 A's and a C (Welsh – wahoo, go me!) I also acquired a hearing problem after having people shriek down my ear for half an hour…glares at friends…ach well, I love 'em really.

And, while I was away, I finally managed to get a ton of writing done, which is a relief, cos I was starting to panic. I also managed to, heaven forbid, actually sort out the plot! So it's hopefully all good for now….

A couple of people have mentioned that Cam has the same surname as Roger Davies, a Hogwarts quidditch captain, and wondered if their related. Defiantly not. Cam and Mark are both muggle, through and through. Sorry about the confusion – I didn't realise until it was mentioned. Here in Wales you can't swing a cat without hitting a Davies or a Jones – there's 2 Davies's and 3 Jones's in my class of 30 alone, and none of them are related.

I also need to apologise for the confusion before I went away – I was getting annoyed with having the old HTCHB reviews still showing, and then I wasn't sure if the original readers were getting alerts…it's very confusing, and I apologise, and hope some of you managed to eventually make your way across to the new one! The old one is now deleted.

This chapter is dedicated to Kittiecutie, for all her amazing help sorting out the above trauma!

And gold stars to: **EnoughChaos4You**, **GilmoreAholic**, **transfiguredbunny**, **The Angry Classicist**, **Kittycutie**, **roseXnXchains**, **seikinoko**, **Mei1105** and **raining flowers** for reviewing!

Apology's – this chapter hasn't been beta-ed. I wanted to put it up before I leave again, and Beth's being lazy.

Tonks pulled up another chair up to the desk, and settled herself down in front of the machine, which began to whir ominously. She tapped a few buttons, and different colours flicked across the screen. She glanced at the card, moved her hand about, and suddenly the screen stopped moving.

"There we go." She said, sounding satisfied.

Remus leaned forward, his heart in his mouth, and examined the screen in front of him.

"So where do you want to look? Pictures? Order a painting? About the artist?"

"That one." Said Remus firmly, and Tonks wiggled her hand again. Moments later, a picture began to fill the screen. He watched as it began to appear, line by line. A house, the top of someone's head, then another head, and the bodies, and eventually the entire picture filled the screen. Remus studied it with narrowed eyes for a moment, and felt himself go cold all over.

"Remus?" Tonks asked hesitantly, after a moment.

He didn't answer, but instead continued to stare at the screen. Five people stood in front of a house, two adults and three children. The woman had red hair, tied back from her face, and in front of her stood a small boy, messy black hair and a snub nose meaning he would forever suffer the description of "cute". A taller girl, also red haired, but serious looking, stood next to him, and next to her stood another girl, probably between the other two in age, with black hair falling in messy curls. Behind her stood a man with messy black hair, and glasses set on his nose. He looked strangely familiar, and after a moments contemplation, Tonks recognised him.

"Harry?" She asked, a frown playing across her face. He looked like the teenager, but he was far to old, and who were the people around him, come to that?.

Remus shook his head. "Wrong eyes." He said, his voice hoarse. "James."

Tonks looked at Remus in disbelief.

"Remus…" She said again, frowning deeply. "James is dead. He died 15 years ago."

Remus tuned to look at her, his eyes and face devoid of any emotion.

"Then explain that." He said, jabbing at the screen with his finger.

Tonks leant forward on her seat and began to read the text under the picture.

Tonks skimmed through the bulk of the text, which talked about the artists various paintings, before her eyes settled on the final paragraphs.

_Lily, pictured above, first started painting about 12 years ago, after amnesia therapists advised her to try it as an outlet for any possible memories from her early life. Lily and her husband both suffer from an unusual type of amnesia, in that they have no recollection of their childhood, or life before the age of approximately 25. No trace can be found of any friends or relatives from this time, and so the Potters life remains a mystery._

_"I don't think its worked though." Says Lily with a laugh, when asked about the therapists theory. "Unless my early life was full of dragons and witches, and white bearded old men. I love fantasy, so I guess I'm just painting what I love."_

_Lily lives in Somerset with her husband, James, and three children, Jane (11), Gemma, (9), and Jack (6), as well as an assortment of cats, dogs, fish, chickens and guinea pigs. _

_Article taken from the Hankersbar Daily, because Lily kept forgetting to write her own page, and the site needed updating. _

Tonks smiled slightly at the last line, and looked over at Remus again. He was as pale as she'd ever seen him, his breathing shallow.

"It _is_ them, Tonks." He whispered under his breath. "It's got to be."

Tonks studied him for a moment, brow furrowed.

"Ok then"

Remus looked at her, frowning.

"You aren't going to try and convince me I'm wrong?"

Tonks shrugged. "No point. He was your friend, you knew him. If anyone would recognise him, it'd be you."

Remus studied her, head on one side in a way that reminded Tonks of his wolfness.

"Thanks." He said after a moments pause.

She shrugged again. "No problem."

Remus paused. "Is there a way of contacting people via these screens? If I could send them a letter, explain who I am, who they are, and then…." He asked, examining the computer.

"Remus," Tonks interjected softly, laying a hand on his sleeve. He blinked and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Maybe you ought to talk to Dumbledore first. If you just turn up on their doorstep declaring to have intricate knowledge of their lives, you'll scare them senseless.

Remus hesitated, and Tonks felt him relax slightly. "Sorry. Your right. Guess I got a little carried away."

There was an awkward pause, during which time Tonks realised she was still holding Remus' arm, and so hastily let go.

"Thanks." Said Remus finally, breaking he silence.

Tonks looked surprised. "Oh, erm, no problem. Any time you want to learn how to use bits of muggle technology, just give me a shout. Except toasters." Suddenly realising she was babbling, Tonks shut up.

Remus, however, didn't seem to mind. He looked slightly amused, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"Toasters?" He asked.

"Yep. Devils own contraption. You stick the bread in, press the button, and minutes later you get a square of charcoal out of it. So where do you reckon we'll find Dumbledore?"

"We?" Remus looked shocked.

Tonks blushed. "Sorry. I mean, if you didn't mind, I'd like to come too. I know they're your friends and everything, but I…"

"It's fine Tonks." Remus said, cutting across her. "I'd like it if you came with me."

"Oh. Good."

"But don't you have work about fifteen minutes ago?"

Tonks looked at the clock.

"Bugger. Kingsley'll slaughter me. Sorry, Remus, I guess you'll have to go alone after all."

Remus shook his head. "I'll send an owl to Dumbledore, ask him to meet me somewhere. When he replies, I'll owl you at the Ministry."

Tonks nodded. "Ok. I'll shut this down and say bye to mum. You'd better think up an excuse quick, or you'll be here until next week."

Half an our later, Remus was back at Mrs Jenkins's, having paid what seemed like an inordinate amount of money to send the hastily scribbled not to Dumbledore from the Diagon Ally post office. All he could do now was wait.

And as it turned out, he didn't need to wait that long at all. Not two hours had passed when the owl returned, bearing an equally hasty but much neater reply, telling Remus to be outside the three broomsticks at five o'clock. Torn between thanks that the Headmaster had agreed to meet him, and annoyance that he had to wait another two hours, Remus sent the owl on its final journey, to London, and the Ministry Headquarters.

It was not, Tonks had to admit, one of the better days. A stack of paperwork several feet high was perched on top of her desk, threatening to fall on the next person who walked into her cubicle. That was the problem with accepting assignments. She loved the action bit, but the days of form filling that followed was something she would happily pass on. And it didn't help that her two, admittedly dearly beloved, friends from the cubicles on either side had finished all their paperwork that morning and were determined to gloat about it.

"How's it going?" Asked Nat, poking her head into Tonks' cubicle for what was probably the tenth time that afternoon.

"Careful Nat." Said a male voice. "She's got form 11F in there, and she's not afraid to use it."

The woman called Nat was pushed into the tiny space, making room for a dark haired man to take her place in the doorway.

Tonks glared at both of them.

"Shouldn't you two be wrapped up in each others arms somewhere instead of bugging a poor, defenceless colleague?"

"Well, if you insist." Said the man with a shrug, leaning over and pulling his girlfriend into his arms. "Lets give her a show, hey Nat?"

He was interrupted by a well aimed ink bottle from Tonks.

"Hey!" He cried as the blue liquid began to seep into his robes.

"Not in here, thank you, as you knew full well." Snorted the source of the ink.

"These were clean this morning!" The man moaned, poking doubtfully at the ever spreading marks.

"Want me to vanish the stain?" Asked Tonks in a sickly sweet voice, fingering her wand menacingly.

"Oddly, no."

"Well now I'm hurt."

"Says the girl who, on attempting to vanish something written on her hand in our fifth year, instead managed to vanish her hand." Put in Nat, laughing at the memory. "Poor Professor Flitwick, he didn't know whether to praise the way you'd done the charm, or tell you off for doing it on yourself."

"Hello? Robes slowly turning into the clothing version of the Pacific Ocean?" The man interrupted.

"Oh you big baby. Come here." Nat turned her boyfriend round, waved her wand, and the ink disappeared.

"You're a star."

"I know."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Much as I love it when you two start gazing at each other like no one else exists, I still have several feet of paper work to make my slow, slow way through. So, if you don't mind…" She looked significantly at the door.

"And we thought we were your friends." The man pouted.

"Alex, you know full well that you probably register under the title of my only friends. However, if I don't finish this, you can be assured that by next Monday this cubicle will be inaccessible, and you'll have to dig through drifts of half completed bits of form to reach me."

Any further conversation was curtailed by the sudden arrival of a very flustered look owl, which dropped a letter on top of the pile of forms.

"I didn't realise we'd gone back to using owls for memos." Said Alex, sounding surprised.

"We've not. That's from the outside." Nat said, rolling her eyes.

Alex looked at her, wide eyed. "The outside? You mean, there is a place beyond these four walls? A place where poor junior aurors are not picked on by their evil supervisor, the lovely Miss Draygon?"

Tonks ignored him, unrolling the letter and reading the note inside instead.

Tonks –

Meeting at 5. If you've finished at work, I can either pick you up from the Ministry or your place at about five too.

"Nyphandora Tonks, if you don't give me the name, age and sex of whoever just wrote to organise what sounds like a date, then I shall use my vanishing spell on every form you have ever filled in."

Tonks look up top see both Nat and Alex reading the letter over her shoulder. She sighed – Nat was well known in the auror offices for carrying out her threats to the letter. The delicate featured blonde woman was living proof that looks are very, very deceiving.

"His names Remus, and he's a friend of mine who's going through a bit of a rough patch. His best friend died recently, and he thinks he may have at last made contact with another friend he's not seen in about fifteen years."

"Is he single?"

Tonks laughed. "If your interested, Alex, I could try and set you up, but I don't think Nat would be too happy."

"So he is single then." Said Nat, sounding very pleased with herself.

"To the best of my knowledge, yes."

"So where are you meeting him then?"

Tonks looked at the clock, at her pile of forms, and back at the clock.

"I'm meant to be here until half six." She said with a sigh. "So I guess I'll have to say no. Unless by some miracle I manage to get all these forms done, in which case I could finish just before five and meet him downstairs…" She trailed off, smiling lovingly at her friends.

"Oh fine then." Said Nat huffily. "Chuck us a quill and I'll give you a hand. If this mysterious Remus turns out to be the guy you've been day dreaming about recently then I don't want to miss out a chance to meet him."

So it was that at five to five the three friends left the auror offices to head down to the main entrance. Both Nat and Alex were meant to finish at 5 anyway, and thanks to a last minute rush, Tonks had managed to finish her paperwork. Well, most of it. Some of it. More than she'd had done that morning, anyway.

Nat was acting like a three year old in the queue to see Santa, peering at every man they passed and hissing "is that him?" Alex was trying to combine a look of utter boredom with one of idle curiosity, but since he had been a Ravenclaw and not a Slytherin, he wasn't succeeding very well.

"There he is." Said Tonks with relief, beginning to wish she had never opened the note in her friends presence. Nat's eyes narrowed as she scrutinised him from head to foot, and even Alex allowed mild interest to be replaced by vivid interest.

Remus looked about the bustling hall, searching for the vivid pink that would mean Tonks was heading his way. He hadn't been in here since the battle with Voldemort, and it was amazing how normal it all looked now it was full of people. Un-nerving too, when he remembered the last time he'd entered, Sirius had been with him, ready to unleash his wrath if anything had happened to his godson. And that train of thought was going to cease right there.

With only a small amount of relief, he suddenly noticed Tonks ploughing her way over, two people he didn't recognise following behind her.

"Hi," She said, pink cheeked and out of breath. "Sorry, I ought to have warned you. It gets really chaotic in here about now, everyone trying to leave at once."

Remus shook his head. "No matter." He looked curiously at the man and woman behind her, who were both looking at him with equal curiosity.

"Oh, sorry. Remus, this is Alex Michaels and Natalie Henderson, friends of mine from work. Nat, Alex, this is Remus Lupin."

Hands were shook, greetings exchanged, and an awkward silence fell. Tonks ground her heel into Nat's foot, and she suddenly leapt into action.

"Lovely to meet you Remus." She trilled in true Nat style. "But me and this lump have to be off. We'll see you again." And grabbing Alex's arm, the pair disappeared again into the throng.

Remus looked over at Tonks, his eye brows raised questioningly. She blushed.

"Sorry. They were there when the owl came, and the minute Nat realised you were male she started planning my wedding."

"I see." Said Remus, his expression clearly showing he didn't.

"Don't worry about it. Ever since she started going out with Alex she's been desprate to find me a 'nice, sensible man with the looks of David Tenant – she's muggle born - and the personality of…well, a personality full stop would help. And since no such male exists, she instead settles for any man within a 50 meter radius."

They were pushing their way towards the exit now, anti-apparition spells having been cast over the entrance hall ever since the Death Eater's attack.

"So of course, the minute she clocked I was meeting a man after work, she got out her bridal magazines and started to examine my hair." Tonks shuddered, grinning.

"She sounds like an interesting person." Remus said dryly, dodging a broom that was flung over someone's shoulder.

"Oh, life's not boring with Nat around. She was in my year at Hogwarts, 'cept in Gryfinndor."

"And what were you?"

"I'm a Ravenclaw. Not sure why. I guess 'cos I'm not nice enough to be a Hufflepuff, not evil enough to be a Slytherin, and the poor Gryfindors had enough to put up with Charlie Weasley, never mind me as well."

"You were in the same year as Charlie Weasley?"

"Yep. Used to drive teachers mad, me and him. How I met Nat – Charlie used to make me talk to her so he could gaze at her and drool."

Remus laughed as they stepped into the afternoon sunlight on the deserted muggle street.

"Where are we meeting him?" Asked Tonks, suddenly realising they could apparate.

"Three Broomsticks. See you there."

With a snap, Remus vanished, and moments later, Tonks too was gone.

And there we have it! I know the timeline is wrong, but I had to throw to David tenant bit in there for Kate and Carly and Hannah and Tash and Steph and jenny, who are all fighting over custody.

Sorry about the stars between Author Notes - somethings up with the line divider thingy.

Please review! Update a week Monday!


	5. In Which Doors are Knocked on

Greetings! I'm back again, from yet another week of internet-less…mutters under breath….I was guilted into doing a 7 day orchestra course, which, while not as bad as I had first thought, I could certainly have done without.

Another warning – again, this chapter hasn't been proof read. Beth's out riding, and I want to put this up before I forget.

Oh, and a couple of apologies as well – I wrote this chapter in the middle of the holidays, when we were going through a major Lord of the Rings craze (we watched all three films at least twice). So I fear Dumbledore may be a bit Gandalf-y for a few chapters. Also, the next few chapters are shorter than my previous ones…short chapters seem to be suiting this story at the moment…

Anyway, read, and don't forget to review, like the following amazingly wonderful people: **EnoughChaos4You**, **seikinoko,** annnnnd…. **raining flowers.**

And in answer to all your questions – Yes, there is a lot more Tonks and Remus to come!

And darn, the funny line thing still isn't working...I shall use stars instead!

When Remus arrived, Dumbledore was already there, helping a flushed looking Tonks up off the floor.

"Sorry." She was gasping. "Landed funny."

"That's quite all right my dear." Said a smiling Dumbledore. "Ah Remus. You said it was urgent?"

Remus nodded, and looked about. The main street of Hogsmeade was busy with villagers and tourists in the evening sunlight, many of whom were making no disguise of their curiosity at seeing the old wizard sanding outside the pub.

"Is there anywhere a bit more... private …we could go?" He said, eyeing a large family who were openly staring.

"Of course. This way."

Dumbledore turned and began to walk swiftly away from the Three Broomsticks, heading out of the village entirely. Bemused, Remus and Tonks trailed after him, occasionally having to jog to keep up with the Headmasters quick pace.

He stopped after some 10 minutes walk, in the middle of a small clearing in the woods just outside the village. The sun shone through the leaves, giving a dappled look to the people standing there. A large boulder, smoothed by years of rain and snow and the behinds of a thousand weary walkers, stood to one side, and grass and falled sticks littered the floor.

"This should do." Dumbledore said, drawing out his wand and waving it in the air. "No one shall overhear us here." He replaced his wand and looked at Remus expectantly.

Remus hesitated, glancing about nervously. Despite Dumbledore's assurances, he was not convinced any one passing would not overhear.

"Come now Remus, do you doubt me? I made the mistake of being overheard in this village once – I certainly shall not do it again."

Remus nodded, and something about the older mans voice made him settle down on one of the felled logs. Tonks folded her legs underneath herself and settled on the floor, and Dumbledore sat down on the boulder as though it were a worn old armchair.

"This morning," Remus began slowly; collecting his thoughts – had it really been only that morning? – "I visited a muggle market not far from Mrs Jenkins house."

And so he spoke, for some fifteen minutes, telling of the meeting with the child and her mother, finding the 'website', and finally bringing out the two postcards he'd bought. Dumbledore listened silently, offering no comment until Remus had finished speaking.

"And you believe these people are Lily and James Potter?" He said at last, speaking slowly, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"Yes." Said Remus instantly. "It's too coincidental for them to be anyone else…and the picture too, on the internet. It was them."

Tonks reached into her robes and pulled something out.

"Here." She said, offering it to the headmaster. "I printed it off after Remus had gone."

Dumbledore unrolled the crumpled paper and examined it thoughtfully.

"It certainly looks like them." He said slowly.

"Yes!" Remus shouted, thumping his hand onto the log. Tonks jumped, and Dumbledore looked up at him with a mildly surprised look on his face. Remus Lupin had long ago learnt how to control his temper, and such an outburst was not so much unusual as unheard of.

"But did it occur to you that it could be Death Eaters?" The old man said gently, and the look on the younger mans face was all the answer he needed.

"But…" Remus began, and Dumbledore held up a hand.

"Listen to me for a moment. Death Eaters, under a polyjuice potion or some sort of glamour. The paintings could have been done by anyone, for we all know well that most of them came through Hogwarts in their childhood. As for the one you saw, of the four of you…well, we know also that Peter Pettigrew has been in Voldemorts service for many years."

Remus said nothing, not even flinching anymore at he thought that his best friend could have further betrayed him.

"But Professor…" Said Tonks slowly, having never got out of some of her Hogwarts habits, "the people in the picture are old, or rather much older than Lily and James were when they died. And even if the Death Eaters had managed to find some hair or something, wouldn't that make them look like Lily and James did when the hair was removed?"

"That is true." Dumbledore admitted. He fell silent for a moment, eyes half shut, apparently thinking. Tonks looked at Remus, who shrugged and shook his head.

"Well then," Dumbledore said at last, "I've examined all the possibilities, and I must admit that your theory, as amazing as it sounds, stands as the most likely."

"Thank you." Said Remus, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice.

"However," said Dumbledore, holding up one hand, "we cannot be hasty. If you are correct, there are many things we need to discuss. It does not do to rush in blindly."

Remus shut and opened his eyes, impatience etched in every inch of his being.

"For starters, do we go to them at all?" Dumbledore continued. Remus looked at him like he was mad.

"Of course we do!" He spluttered.

"Do we? Think about it Remus. Even if they are Lily and James, these people have obviously built themselves a life that they seem to be happy with. Should we barge in there, claiming knowledge about a time they can't remember, bringing with us the dangers of a Potters life in the wizarding world?"

"Albus, you knew Lily and James as well as I did. Can you really picture them being happy not knowing such an important part of their lives?"

"There you are wrong Remus. These people have lost their memories – all their knowledge of the life that made them the people we knew. Could you bare it if it turned out the friends you knew really are dead, with two people of similar looks but a totally different personality in their stead?"

"Yes." Remus said instantly. "Albus, I've lost the five people who meant more to me than anything else in the world since I left Hogwarts. I don't care if Lily and James turn out to have no trace of their old selves left. They were…are my best friends, and I won't abandon them."

Dumbledore sighed. "You're right, of course." He said, pushing his glasses further up his nose in a most un-Dumbledore like way. "But that still leaves us with many questions. Even if we do succeed in returning their memories, or at least having them believe us, what next? There is Harry to consider in all this."

"He goes to them." Said Remus blankly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And suppose that with three children already, they do not want their fourth?"

"They'd never leave him! Especially not to Petunia! If he were living with Sirius, maybe, but even then it would only be under desperate circumstances!"

"Again, my friend, you presume these people to retain the minds of the friends you lost 15 years ago."

"Dumbledore, no matter what has happened to them, I know Lily and James would never abandon their child."

"Even one they have no memory of?"

"Yes."

"So we move Harry from a place which, while admittedly he does not care for, he knows, to a home where his deepest wish has come true. But where the two people he has longed to know for 15 years have no memory of him, and seem to have moved on with other children that have had all the things he missed out on?"

"Oh." Said Remus, visibly deflating as the situation began to become clear to him.

Dumbledore sighed. "Remus, I do not mean to upset you. I wish as much as you that these people turn out to be the Lily and James Potter we lost 15 years ago, and that we can somehow magically replace their memories, move Harry back in with them and give him the home he deserves."

"There's a but coming up here, I can feel it." Said Tonks with a sigh.

"Correct, Miss Tonks. But, we can not afford to be hasty. Fools rush in."

"How do you think they survived, Sir?" Asked Tonks, frowning. "I mean, if Voldemort wants you dead, you die. And what about the memory loss? It obviously includes the attack, or they'd have some remnants of knowledge of the wizarding world."

"I wish I could begin to answer any of those questions, Nyphandora. I have many theories, each of them as unlikely as the next."

The group trailed off into silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"Well," Dumbledore said at last, "Beggars cannot be choosers. You have the address?" He looked at Remus, who nodded and pulled out the small business card. On the reverse side to the web address was a three line address.

_2, The Stables  
__Moor Lane  
__Lower Stretly_

"Then I think we ought to pay a short visit."

Remus could not restrain the smile that spread across his face.

"I'd better go." Said Tonks, getting to her feet. "Three might be a bit heavy all at once."

Remus nodded. "Thanks." He said after moments pause.

She shrugged. "No problem. Just…let me now how it goes, alright?"

"Of course."

Tonks smiled, nodded at Dumbledore and dis-apparated.

"Well then." Dumbledore, standing up. "We had better be off. The village should be a good point to apparate to. I shall see you there."

And moments later, the clearing was…well, cleared.

They arrived in a small, neat village somewhere in the English countryside. The late evening sun gave the stone houses a warm look, and flowers seemed to be sprouting from every available surface. A pub stood some fifty meters away, benches and tables outside, at which families sat eating and old men sat drinking and moaning about the state of the world today. Across the road was a stretch of grass, a pond at one end and a small clump of trees at the other. A group of children were playing on it, their laughter audible even from where the two men stood. It was the picture postcard of country life.

"Now," Said Dumbledore, looking about, "let me see." He approached one of the old men, gathered around the benches out side the pub. "Could you point me in the direction of 2, The Stables please?"

The man looked him up and down, and nodded.

"Aye."

Dumbledore listened carefully while the man rattled off a list of directions, accompanied by nods and ayes from the rest of the men.

"Thank you." He said as the man finally finished, and settled back down to his drink. Dumbledore turned and set off out of the village, Remus trailing after him. Glancing back, he saw several of the men watch them go with narrowed eyes, before leaning in and muttering with the others.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." Said Dumbledore cheerfully. "We've probably given them enough to speculate about for a good few days."

They walked in silence for a while, the wider road through the village giving way to narrower, bumpier lanes and higher hedgerows.

"I was surprised to see Miss Tonks with you, Remus." Said Dumbledore lightly, without looking at his companion.

Remus said nothing for a few moments, trying to gauge the Headmasters hidden meaning, for he was sure there was one.

"I was puzzled by the final line on the card Lily gave me." He said at last. "I guessed it was muggle, so I went to Tonks to find out."

"And why not the delightful Mrs Jenkins?"

Remus opened his mouth, but hesitated before answering. "I…Mrs Jenkins…She is a wonderful hostess, and a lovely woman…but…I fear the questioning would have been unbearable. Tonks is by no means subtle, but she knows when to keep her mouth shut and not ask awkward questions. Most of the time, anyway."

Dumbledore said nothing, but glancing up at him, Remus was sure he saw a satisfied smirk.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes walking, before they reached the half hidden turning onto an even narrower, bumpier lane, and not five minutes along that they came to the open courtyard. On one side stood what looked like an old farmhouse, surrounded in flowers, almost groaning under the weight of a rose trellis up one side. A field stretched out behind the house, two horses grazing in the last of the sunlight. On the other side was the other house, slightly larger but with a more higgle-di–piggle–di look, as though it had been thrown together over many years.

The two men looked at the houses, before, almost as one man, turning ad heading for the second. Dumbledore glanced at Remus, who realised his hands were shaking and quickly shoved them into his pockets. Dumbledore smiled reassuringly, and knocked sharply on the wooden door.

Dun dun dun! Wow! Aren't I evil…a lovely cliffie to end the day on! Hehe….cackles

Update next Monday! By which time I shall have returned to school! But not really returned, since I'm moving on to a new school for 6th Form…but back in a building designed for my educational needs, anyway…oh fun….


	6. In Which Old Friends Aren't

The knock echoed in the hallway. The two men stood aside for some five minutes, before, frowning, Dumbledore knocked again. There was no answer.

"Can I help you?" Said a voice suddenly. Remus and Dumbledore spun round to see a stout, grey haired woman crossing the courtyard towards then.

"We're looking for the Potters." Said Dumbledore as she reached them.

"The Potters? I'm sorry, they left this afternoon. They've moved house." Explained the woman.

"Where have they gone?" Asked Remus, a sick feeling in his stomach.

"I'm afraid I can't say. I've just been sent ahead by the family that are moving in to oversee the furniture arrival."

Ok, ok. I was joking. Even I'm not cruel enough to do that.

Greetings all! Another week gone already…and back to school we go…oh the joy. I've just moved into a new school too, seeing as how the Argoed doesn't have a 6th Form…today was my fourth day, and I didn't get lost for the first time! Wahoo, go me!

Anyways, here's to hoping you've all had a good first week back if you've just returned, or a nice extra weeks holiday if you've not!

It has come to my attention )(I love the Stats page) that several people have me on favourites/story alert, and they've not reviewed! Gasp! Horror! Please, drop me a quick note…it makes me feel loved, and encourages me to right…as for the marvellous people who did review, **Mei1105** and **seikinoko **get love, hugs and brownies!

Anyways, here's what really happened.

The door opened after a few moments, revealing the girl from the market place. She gazed up at the two men silently, her eyes travelling from Dumbledore to Remus and back again.

"Hello." She said shyly after a moments pause.

"Hello." Said Dumbledore cheerfully. "We're looking for Lily and James Potter. Do they live here?"

The girl nodded mutely, turned, and disappeared into the house. Dumbledore looked at Remus and shrugged, before stepping over the threshold into the house. The little girl had disappeared into another room, but her voice carried easily.

"Mum? Mum!"

A woman's voice answered, sounding slightly exasperated. "What is it Jane?"

"Gandalf's at the door!"

Remus choked with laughter, and looked over at Dumbledore, who seemed rather bemused. His laughter was curtailed by the appearance of the woman in the far doorway.

It was the same woman from the market, her hair still tied back, dressed in a too-big shirt that was splattered with paint, and a paint brush clutched in one hand.

Lily Potter frowned at the two men in front of her. She vaguely recognised one of them from the market place earlier, but the other looked as though he had just stepped out of one of her paintings. He was wearing long purple robes, with boots made of some unrecognisable material that looked like leather but defiantly wasn't, and his beard reached is waist with ease. Not to mention the fact that his face, from the long crooked nose to the half moon glasses, was identical to the postcard pinned up in her studio.

"Can I help?" She asked finally, since the two men seemed incapable of speech. They were both gazing at her with unreadable expressions on their faces, almost as if they were afraid she was about to disappear.

"Lily Potter?" Said the white haired man at last.

"Yes?"

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and this is Remus Lupin."

Remus watched her face carefully, half expecting, half hoping, to see some flicker of recognition. There was none.

"Lily Potter." She said slowly, frowning, realising to late that they already seemed to know that.

There was an awkward silence.

"We were wondering if we could talk to you and your husband about a…a matter of some importance." Said Dumbledore at last.

Lily Potter, while being, at this moment in time, utterly perplexed and confused, was not a stupid woman, and something about the men's expressions made her eyes widen in comprehension.

"Jane, go and find your dad." She said swiftly, sending the girl from the room. "And then run across the yard and ask Cam and Mark to pop over for a while please." If these people had come for the reason she suspected, then it was only right Cam and Mark were present as well.

The little girl nodded and ran from the room.

"Please, have a seat." Said Lily, gesturing to the sofa. Dumbledore settled down on it, and Remus perched nervously on the edge.

"Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you." Dumbledore declined, and Remus, who seemed devoid of speech, shook his head.

Here was another uncomfortable silence, punctured by footsteps in the passageway outsider. Moments later, a man appeared in the doorway.

It took every ounce of Remus's self restraint – of which he had a lot - at this point not to leap to his feet and embrace the man on the spot. It was unmistakably his friend, if years older. The same fly away hair, the same eyes, even the same glasses.

"James, this is Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin." Said Lily, frowning slightly. Remus had not been as good at hiding his reaction as he had thought. "They say they need to talk to us about something important."

James nodded, a frown on his face too, before perching on the arm of the armchair his wife was sitting in.

"If I my begin." Said Dumbledore, but Lily shook her head.

"Hold on for a moment. We have friends living next door, and I've a feeling they will want to hear this as well."

Dumbledore nodded, and so the four sat in silence for several minutes. Eventually, the front door opened, and moments later a man and a woman entered the room, followed by the girl and another child, a boy with messy black hair. There was no mistaking whose child he was.

"Cam, Mark," said Lily slowly, "this is Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin. They wanted to talk to me and James about something important, and I thought you might like to hear it too."

Cam nodded, and smiled tightly at the strangers.

"Now," Said Dumbledore, looking enquiringly at Lily, who nodded. "I suppose it is best to begin from the beginning. 15 years ago this October, myself and Remus lost two very dear friends of ours. We believed them to have been killed, their bodies lost forever. Then, earlier on today, Remus saw you, Mrs Potter, in the market and was struck by the resemblance you have to the friend we lost."

"And you think you used to know us?" Breathed James, his face pale.

"It seems that way. 15 years ago, Lily and James Potter of Godrics Hollow, Cheshire, disappeared. Their bodies were never found, but the state of their house was enough to tell us what had happened to them."

Mark leaned forward, a frown on his face. "But you said your friends lived in Cheshire. That's miles away from here. A five, maybe six hour drive. I saw the state Lily and James were in when they arrived – they had defiantly not driven for hours having escaped from their half destroyed house."

Remus glanced at Dumbledore. The both knew what the other was thinking – Apparation – but could they bring the magical part of the Potters lives up?

"Lily," said Remus hesitantly, "it says on your website that you began drawing and painting to see if it bought to light any memories of your childhood. Have you ever wondered about the reason why most of your pictures show what are, in your eyes, fantasy scenes?"

Lily looked blank. "Because I like fantasy?" She ventured at last, feeling slightly like a school child.

"Yes, but there is more to it than that."

"So what, the paintings are true? We spent out lives surrounded by mythical creatures? What are we, magicians?" Asked James incredulously.

Dumbledore bowed his head. "Not magicians. A witch and a wizard."

There was a stunned silence.

"You have got to be kidding." Said Lily a last.

"Not at all. I am a wizard, Remus here is a wizard, your husband is a wizard, and you are a witch."

"Hang on a minute here." Said Cam, holding up her hands. "We seem to have gone from presuming our Lily and James are your Lily and James to accepting it as a general fact. And we've still not got round the 6 hour travel distance between their supposed home and here. Not to mention the whole magic thing."

"I think we can quite safely presume the two Potter couples are one and the same." Said Dumbledore sagely. "The coincidences are too numerous for it to be considered otherwise."

"And the distance? They could hardly stand up, never mind drive." Continued Cam.

"Wizards and witches have a way of travelling, called apparating." Explained Dumbledore calmly. "It is, quite literally, disappearing in one place and appearing in a another. My guess would be Lily and James, attempting to flee their home that Halloween, apparated, and ended up here. Apparating is tricky, and can be very dangerous if you are not focused. I expect that, in their desperation to get away, Lily and James simply disappeared, without thinking of a destination."

"And ended up here, in the middle of my roses." Said Cam, comprehension suddenly dawning on her face.

"What?" Asked James and Lily together.

"I never mentioned it, almost forgot about it really. The morning after you two appeared, I went out to the horses as usual, and found my roses all trampled and broken, in a path from the middle of the bed to the edge. I never did work out what caused it, but what with rushing about between the animals and the hospital, I totally forgot."

"So your saying," said Lily slowly, "that James and I are part of a magical race of people, evidently living in hiding from the rest of the world, and 15 years ago our house spontaneously combusted or something, so we appeared and ended up here?"

"Apparated, not appeared, but that's basically it." Said Dumbledore with a nod. "But your house didn't spontaneously combust."

"So what happened to is?"

"There are good and bad wizards, just as there are good and bad people. A few years ago we had a wizard that went bad, as bad as they got. It was practically open warfare. One night, Halloween 15 years ago, he turned up in Godrics Hollow with the idea of killing you both. Until today we all thought he had succeeded."

"What was his name?" Asked Cam, frowning as the night from so many years ago began to resurface in her memory.

"He liked to call himself Lord Voldemort."

Cam nodded. "You mentioned him," she said to Lily, "that night, when you first arrived. Told me your names, then muttered a few incoherent sentences. I remember you saying Voldemort, or something very similar, though. You got very agitated about it."

Lily let out a deep breathe, and slumped back in the armchair.

"Wow," She said softly. "I never thought when I woke up this morning that by the time I got to bed my whole life would have changed. Again."

"So who exactly are you? And how did we know you?" Asked James, leaning forward and looking at them eagerly.

"Like I said, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I was, and still am, Headmaster of Hogwarts, a school for witchcraft and wizardry. I got to know you first as students, later as friends."

"And you?" James turned to Remus, who had spoken very little since he had entered the room.

"I'm Remus Lupin. You once knew me as Moony. You were one of my best friends while we were at Hogwarts."

Lily's eyes widened in comprehension, suddenly understanding Remus's expression when James had first entered the room and greeted him as a stranger.

James sighed. "Wow. I had friends."

Remus smiled. "You were one of the most popular boys in the school while we were there." He said, grinning.

Lily, however, had turned to Dumbledore. "You say this evil Lord was magical too. Could he have spelled us to make us loose our memories?"

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "If only it were that simple. There are certain spells that can cause memory lose, but they all leave signs, especially around the eyes, and they fade over time. By now, had it been a spell, I would expect you to have some, if not all of your memories back. Whatever it was that caused your memory lose, it was human and not magical."

"Naomi – she's a doctor we know who specialises in memory – says that sometimes, when the body suffers great physical or physiological trauma, it shuts down and puts the person into a coma, and sometimes it never starts up properly again, leading to things like blindness, or in our case, memory lose." Supplied James. "And with cases like memory lose, the conscious refuses to accept anything from the subconscious about the time before the trauma, because it connects it with the pain."

"That sounds like our best theory." Agreed Dumbledore.

"But your magical, so you say. Surely there must be some spell, or something." Said Mark desperately, looking at the two wizards. He didn't understand half of what the strangers were talking about, but something about them both made him believe them, no matter how outlandish their story seemed.

Dumbledore sighed. "No. We are wizards, not gods."

"So we're back to square one." Said Lily irritably. "With a vague outline of what our life could have been like, but no way of reclaiming it."

"Hang on Lily." Said James slowly, a frown Remus recognised from nights of studying and thinking through problems. "We've got one thing we didn't have before – proof that we do actually exist. You remember that girl Naomi told us about – the one that was in the boating accident?"

Lily frowned. "I think so…" She said slowly.

"Her boat capsized, and knocked her out, and she was drifting in the sea for almost 12 hours." Continued James. "By the time the lifeguards found her, she'd fallen into a coma and didn't wake up for five weeks, and when she did she had no recollection of anything?"

"Yes, I remember her." Said Cam suddenly. "I met her mother once."

"Well they got her memory back, eventually, by showing her pictures and home videos, and telling her stories. And every time she heard one, she remembered a bit more of what ad happened around that time. It took them months, but in the end they managed to build up practically all of her memories."

Remus leaned forward eagerly. "I have photos." He said quickly. "Albums of them. And enough stories to keep us up until the early hours of next week."

Albus Dumbledore looked at the man sitting next to him. His face was alight with an excitement he had not seen for a very long time, but there was a hint of desperation around his eyes, almost as if he expected everything to disappear again if they did not act fast enough.

"It is up to Lily and James." He said simply. "If they wish to try, then we shall try."

Lily and James glanced at each other, apparently communicating without words. After a few minutes silence, they turned to face the rest of the room.

"Try it." Said Lily.

Remus beamed, and leapt to his feet. "I'll get them." He said, already half way out of the door.

"Wait a minute." Said Lily slowly, holding out her hand. "There's something else we need to ask you about."

Cam and Mark glanced at each other – from the looks on their friends faces, they could guess what was coming.

Remus tilted his head slightly, looking at them questioningly as he slid back down into his seat.

"When Jane was born," said Lily slowly, "the doctors told us…the doctors said I'd had anther child, once. We searched all the records we could find, birth certificates, even death certificates, but we could find no record of a child born to a Lily and James Potter anywhere in the right time-line. I guess witches and wizards have separate records, which explains why we've never managed to find any trace of ourselves. But what happened to the child?"

Remus and Dumbledore looked at each other, Remus' face posing the question, Dumbledores answering it.

"Harry." Said Remus finally, sighing slightly. "You had a son, about a year after you first married. He's called Harry."

Lily had gone a strange colour, and James looked thunderstruck.

"And what happened to him?" Lily whispered. "That night when we were attacked….what happened to him?"

"He survived." Said Remus quietly, and both Potters seemed to deflate with relief.

"Where is he now?" Asked James, looking around the room as if he expected his missing son to appear in the corner.

"He spends the summer holidays staying with your sister." Said Dumbledore, nodding his head at Lily. "For the rest of the time he lives at Hogwarts."

Lily nodded, the news of her sister apparently unimportant or unnoticed, at least for now.

James looked over at his wife, before turning back to Remus.

"Fetch the photos." He said simply.

Ohhhhh….but will it work? Do the Potters have the patience to wait months for their memories? Of course not! But do they have any choice…tune in next Monday to find out!

And please please PLEASE review!


	7. In Which Sparks Fly

Greetings! Sorry for the late update – yesterday I went straight from school to wrok to piano lesson to band practise, and didn't get home til ten…and then I couldn't get on a computer.

I have a laptop! This is the first chapter of many to be posted from it! Much yeyness!

I'm also going mad. And I mean unhealthily mad. Today at work, I was suddenly struck with the thought… "if (and it's a big if) I ever get married, I'm not going to make people sing boring hymns. I'll have Bohemian Rhapsody instead." Sometimes I worry even myself…

Anyway! Many thanks for all the reviews! Keep it up! The people who's reviews made me love them even more than my beautiful new machine (but not quite as much as my even more beautiful new hens) were: **Mei1105, ****raining flowers****PHEONIX39****, Elocin **and** seikinoko.**

Dedicated to Mei1105 (Tash), who left for uni yesterday…which, while meaning she is on the same land mass as us up north, also means she has left her other thirds behind**…**

Enjoy!

Wooo! Have just discovered the liney things are working again! Even more yeyness!

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Remus leapt to his feet for the second time, hurrying out of the room and back out through the door they had entered the house by. It wasn't necessary, but manners amongst the wizarding community genrally dicated that a person apparated and disapparated outside peoples homes.

He appeared behind Mrs Jenkins garden shed, a spot she had shown him especially, so that he could come and go without arousing serious suspicion amongst her muggle neighbours. Remus let himself in, ignoring the dogs' usual ecstatic greetings and taking the stairs two at a time. The album was in a box under his bed, containing items he'd hauled around with him since his school days – a gryfinndor scarf, a copy of Hogwarts; A History, scraps of parchment covered in notes or prank plans, one showing a far more detailed plan of the Slytherin common room than ever made it to the marauders map. Old notes, passed between the friends in class, even his very first Hogwarts Letter. Bits and pieces that, from the time he moved out of his parents house to his current location, had gathered in a beaten up cardboard box that he kept promising himself he would clean out. But when it came to it, he could never quite manage to. Its amazing how attached a person can become to the top of a butterbeer bottle.

Looking at the box, Remus made to grab the album, before suddenly changing his mind and hoisting the whole box up. As an after thought, he grabbed the 3 little wooden carvings off the shelf. Suddenly hearing Mrs Jenkins feet on the stairs, boding the 15-minute conversation that would follow, he disappareted.

His reappeared right in the middle of the Potters sitting room.

"Sorry." He apologised. "I was aiming for the front door, but it's a bit tricky when your not focused properly."

"I see." Said Lily, wide eyed and evidently not seeing at all. But then again, it's not every day that a man quite literally appears from no-where into the middle of your sitting room.

Remus set the box down next to the low table that was in the middle of a room, pulling back the tatter tabs.

"This is my box of old school stuff." He explained. "When I moved out of my parents, I put anything from Hogwarts in here, and I've lugged it round with me ever since."

James looked at the mass of papers and books and stripy scarves. There was a lot of history here. And they needed all of it.

"Start at the beginning." He said grimly. "Tell us everything."

Remus smiled, albeit a little shakily, and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I first met you both on the first September, 1969." He began. "On the Hogwarts Express - that's the steam train that you catch to go to Hogwarts. It leaves at 11am from Platform 9 and ¾, Kings Cross Station."

"9 and ¾?" Interjected Lily disbelievingly.

"Yes. To reach it, you had to walk through the wall between platforms 9 and 10. I was late getting on the train, so I had to walk almost its entire length to find an empty carriage. Along the way I met another boy, Peter Pettigrew. He was a first year, like me, and neither of us could find a seat. Those two traumas alone were enough to make us friends, so we searched the entire train together. Eventually, we found empty seats in a carriage right at the back. The only two people sitting there were also first year, also boys. A moody looking, messy aired black haired boy-"

"I bet that was you." Lily said, poking her husband. Remus grinned.

"Nope. That was Sirius Black. James was sitting across the carriage from him, trying desperately to strike up a conversation. So me and Peter piled in, introductions were made, or grunted, in Sirius's case, and we fell to conversation."

"What about Lily? Where was she?" James asked, looking at his wife.

"We met Lily later. Sirius and you got into an argument about Qudditch, and-"

"Qudditch?" Interrupted James, frowning. Remus sighed. He had never thought he'd see the day when he had to explain to James Potter what quidditch was. Then again, He'd never thought he would see James Potter again either, so perhaps today was a day for seeing things.

"Quidditch is a wizarding sport. Its played on broomsticks – just like the ones in your pictures." He added, seeing Lily's open mouth. "The rules are complicated, but basically there's 7 players, four balls and three goals at either end. You and Sirius both felt very passionately about it." The smile on Remus's face spoke of years of memories, and both Lily and James had their mouths halfway open to ask more, before Dumbledore spoke.

"I think it's best if we let Remus tell his story first, perhaps a little more briefly. You could ask questions later."

The rest of the room nodded, and Remus continued.

"Anyway, I guess the two of you were making a pretty load racket, because three girls from the next compartment suddenly appeared in the doorway. One of them was you, Lily. You shouted at Sirius and James to shut up, and Sirius shouted back, and then you shouted back and disappeared again. Sirius was fuming on about bossy girls, but James had a sort of dazed look on his face." Remus' smile had taken on an evil edge. "Peter asked him what was wrong, and after a moments silence, he said 'I think I'm in love'."

The entire room erupted with laughter. Dumbledore had managed to restrain himself to a chuckle, while Lily was on the verges of hysterics. Both Mark ad Cam, while slightly more reserved than Lily, were laughing heavily, and James sat in the middle of it all, looking very put out.

"I never said that!" He protested, when the laughter had quietened a bit.

"You did. And you repeated it at least once a day for the next seven years." Said Remus, chuckling.

"Seven years?" Questioned Lily, slightly calmer.

"That's how long we were at Hogwarts for." Explained Remus. "And almost how long it took James to persuade you that he wasn't always a big-headed, self-centred idiot, as you were fond of calling him."

"And was he?" Asked Lily eagerly.

Remus tilted his head on one side, thinking.

"Some of the time." He admitted at last, and there was another explosion of laughter.

"So what was Hogwarts like?" Asked James, evidently keen to move the conversation on.

"Indescribable." Said Remus simply. "It just is Hogwarts." He frowned, trying desperately to find the words he knew Lily and James needed to describe the place they'd spent so long, and failing miserably.

"You said you were one of James's best friends." Said Lily, seeing the mans problem. "Who were the others?"

Remus smiled. "The other two who were in the carriage that first train ride. Sirius and Peter, Sirius especially. He was by far your best friend."

"And what about me?" Said Lily quickly. She could see the question in James's eyes, and the fear of having to answer it in Remus'. That could wait.

"Same again, the two girls you met on the train. Liz and Jane. The three of you were the bane of our lives." Remus said, smiling. "Jane was always quick to anger – she drove Sirius and James mad a lot of the time, and spent the rest of the time goading them. And Liz…" For a moment, Remus's voice caught. "Liz was the quietest of the three of you. Half the time you forgot she was there. But she was. Always there, whenever she was needed."

"What were Sirius and Peter like?" Asked James quietly, seeing the sadness in the strangers face and guessing the cause. This Liz had obviously meant a lot to him once. Emphasise on the past tense. He'd picked the right topic to bring Remus out of it though, for he smiled again.

"Chalk and cheese." He said with a grin. "Peter was quiet a lot of the time. He wasn't the smartest, but he meant well. Looked up to you and Sirius like you were the sun and moon. You and Sirius you were the leaders. Both of you trying to lead the other, it was like a tug of war half the time. Sirius was…well, Sirius. He was quick to anger, had a massive temper if you annoyed him. But he was loyal, fiercely so. Never betrayed a friend."

Dumbledore was the only one who understood the sadness in Remus' eyes at that final comment, although they all saw it.

"Why don't we see the photos?" Said Cam quietly, trying desperately not to feel out-placed as the stranger talked about friends and memories of two of the beings she held dearest that she knew nothing about.

Remus nodded, reaching for the album. Its once red cloth cover had faded to a deep brown, and bits of it was hanging off in places, but both Lily and James were gazing at it as though it were the crown jewels. Remus flicked through it, searching for the picture he wanted.

"This was our last day." He said, showing them the page. Lily and James leaned forward eagerly and took the album.

And stared.

"The pictures are moving." Said James at last, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"Wizard photos do that." Explained Remus quickly. "Don't worry, you get used to it."

James nodded slowly, still gazing at the photo. Seven teenagers crowded together, three girls, four boys, a lake visible in the background, a tree just behind them. A messy haired boy was leaning against his trunk, an arm around a red headed girl. Next to them sat another boy, also black haired, but with a much more elegant look, which was somewhat spoiled by the fact that he was flicking what looked like water at another girl, lying the other side of the pair by the tree. Her hair was a dark chestnut brown, reaching down almost to her waist, and her eyes were dancing with light. Behind her sat a blondish haired boy, laughing at his friends' antics, and in front of her sat a brown-haired boy, a book in one hand, although he had long ago given up trying to read it. The final figure lay stretched out across the front, golden blonde hair falling past her shoulders, her head propped up on her arms by the reading boys knee.

"That's me." James said slowly, pointing at the messy haired boy. There was a look of wonderment on his face as he took in the sight of…well, himself.

"Yep." Said Remus, waiting for further reaction.

"And that's Lily. And…" There was a pause as both Potters looked between Remus and the photo.

"That's you." Said Lily at last, pointing to the reading boy, the adult version of whom nodded.

"So that's…Sirius, and that's Peter." Said James, pointing at the correct figure in turn.

"And that one's Liz, and that one's Jane." Finished Lily triumphantly.

The Potters turned the pages, studying the pictures intently, seeing the faces of friends and enemies, strange creatures and unknown places, all of which had once been familiar and known to them. And they waited for the moment when Remus would tell the story behind a particular picture, and one or the other would begin to remember the events leading up to it. But it never happened.

They moved away from the album as the school years ended, instead unrolling and smoothing out the scraps of parchment, reading out scribbled notes and lists, James staring in wonderment at his own handwriting making out words he had no memory of writing.

Finally, Lily threw down her scrap of parchment with despair.

"Its useless." She cried angrily. "I keep thinking I should remember, recognise the places and the people, even the handwriting. And I can almost feel it, but its just not there." She sat back on the sofa, impatience and annoyance in every line of her features.

"Remember what Naomi said, Lily." Interjected Mark. "It took that girl many minths to even begin to regain her memory."

"Patience, Lily." Said Dumbledore softly, smiling fondly at the woman he knew to be anything but.

"You say that as though you have said it to me many times before." Said Lily. "And I am sure you have. But I can't remember any of them. My mothers name, my fathers…even my own child." She looked up suddenly at Dumbledore, her face red with emotion.

"You are a wizard, and Remus claims you to be a great one. Surely there must be something you can do that the hospitals don't know of."

Dumbledore sighed, and suddenly looked very old. He appeared to be thinking something over, weighing up options.

"There is something," he said at last, speaking slowly. "There is something we could try…though it has never been done before, not to my knowledge."

Lily and James both sat up straighter.

"Is it quicker than months of trawling through photos and bits of paper?" Asked James.

"It is."

"Then why the hell did you not tell us before?" Lily's redheaded temper got the better of her as she turned on the old headmaster.

"Because it has never been tried before, because I know nothing of the consequences. And there is more at stake here than simply your memories." Dumbledores tone had taken a slightly dangerous edge, and Remus suddenly realised that the past hour had been as trying for him as for anyone.

"There is a boy, somewhere in this country, who deepest, most secret desire is nothing more than to see his parents, to know them as more than their friends memories. I will not ruin that chance for him anymore than I will for you. I am concerned of the affect this method could have on your mental well being, even possibly your physical."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "20 years." She spat bitterly. "20 _years _of nothing but a black nothingness, and you say you hold the key to it. I don't care about your concerns. Give me back my life."

Dumbledore regarded her calmly. "You are prepared to do it?" He asked sadly. "Both of you?"

The Potters nodded as one.

"The consequences? Remember, not all your memories will be good ones. Could you live with that? If your memories bring back to you dark moments, moments you wish to forget again, if they bring you thoughts of a time in your lives when you were not the people you are now…could you handle it?"

James looked at the two men seated across from him.

"You knew us." He said slowly. "You knew an us we know nothing of. Do you think we'll think that? Do you think this us is so changed from the then us that we'll be torn in two?"

Remus studied them both for a moment.

"No." He said softly. "I don't think so."

"Then we'll try it."

A sudden bang from another room broke the atmosphere. Lily leapt to her feet with a cry of "Jack!" and ran from the room. The others all stood up, looking at the doorway Lily had disappeared through, where now stood a rather dishevelled looking girl. Remus recognised her as the one that had opened the door, and he wondered if the bang had anything to do with the flour that now covered her from head to toe.

"Jane…" Said James with a sigh, approaching his daughter. There was something in his voice that told Remus this was not an unusual occurrence- a tone of what-did-you-do-now was evident.

"Sorry dad. I was looking for something in the cupboard, and I slipped on the egg that Jack broke. The flour just sort of fell when I grabbed the cupboard to stop myself falling off the counter. Jacks a bit of a mess too."

James closed his eyes, a look of pain crossing his face, making Remus smile.

"Go and have a shower, and change your clothes." He said, leading her from the room.

Dumbledore turned to the remaining people in the room.

"I shall fetch what I need, and return. I should be back shortly."

He disapparated with a pop, the situation seeming to have gone beyond the call for common courtesy. Remus looked over at the strangers, both of whom had sank back down into their seats, looking a little more than slightly shocked. He smiled grimly at them.

"You look as bad as I feel." He said, trying to broach conversation.

The woman smiled back, but it was emotionless, devoid of feeling.

"Same." She said. There was a pause, during which Remus copied his companions and sat back down.

"I always thought…well, hoped, really, that someday someone from their past would turn up. I just never thought it would be this…well…this." Mark said after a few minutes.

Remus nodded. "Its strange, seeing them again. It took me so long to convince myself they really were dead, weren't ever coming back…for weeks afterwards I kept expecting one of other of them to turn up at meetings, or come over to borrow something. And they never did. Didn't help that we had no bodies to bury, no closure."

Cam watched the man in front of her, complete stranger though he was, and saw years of pain and sadness that went beyond his age. It was a skill she had always possessed, reading peoples faces as well as any book, something she'd passed on to Lily and James as they re-learnt how to live, and it often came in useful.

"And now seeing them again, friends with people who are complete strangers to you…with no memories of you…" She hazardered, and struck gold.

"Dumbledore warned me about this, when I went to see him earlier. I guess I didn't believe how different it would be."

Cam and Mark waited, giving him time to collect his thoughts.

"I thought…well, I don't know what I thought. A flicker of recognition maybe. Something."

Cam glanced at her husband, but Mark was always much more comfortable in physical matters that he could fix with his own two hands, and seemed uncomfortable with the obvious distress of the man in front of him.

"What happened to them?" She asked softly, watching Remus's face carefully.

"Who?" He frowned, confused.

"The friends in the pictures, the ones you were talking about."

Remus sighed. "Liz was killed maybe two weeks after we thought Lily and James were. Voldemort was gone but the wizarding world was still at war with his followers, and she was murdered during an attack on her home. Jane cut off all contact with us and the wizarding world altogether some 6 months before, and I don't know what happened to her."

"And the other two?"

"Sirius was wrongly imprisoned for 12 years, believed to have led Voldemort to the Potters. He escaped, and spent two years on the run. He was killed four weeks ago. Peter…the Peter in those photographs died soon after they were taken."

Cam frowned. Remus's tone told her there was more to this than he was telling, but he obviously wanted to go no further, and she would not push him. Yet. Instead she thought of the other man, the one that had been so close to James.

"Fate is a cruel mistress." She murmured softly. "A breach of four weeks. It would be better if it had been years."

Remus grimaced. "It is cruel in more ways than one. The day of his murder was the day the Ministry of Magic finally realised he was innocent. He was officially pardoned two days later."

Cam closed her eyes, looking pained.

"So your all alone." She said after a pause, making Remus start. Rarely had anyone read him so well. Then again, the occurrences of the past 12 hours had shaken him in so many different ways; it was unsurprising that he was not as guarded as usual.

"Not always. I have friends, people I've worked with on one thing and another, a family that is forever willing to give me a bed for the night and more food than I could ever eat."

"But none of that can ever equal people you spent your childhood with, 7 years of shared memories."

Remus bowed his head, not bothering to deny the plain truth.

"You're a very perceptive woman, Mrs…" Remus trailed off, suddenly realising he didn't know these peoples names.

"Jones. Cam and Mark Jones." Filled in Cam. "And I know I am. It's a useful talent. Some of the time, anyway."

"You said you had often hoped of Lily and James finding their past." Said Remus after few minutes' silence. "That can't make it any easier, knowing there's so much of their lives you know nothing of."

"And finding it's so different from any of the scenarios we pictured? I'm not alone in my perceptiveness, Mr Lupin."

"Remus."

"Very well then. Remus. It will take some getting used to, I admit. Its a lot to think about."

Remus hesitated, remembering Lily's stories of her older sister.

"You wont…ignore them, or…I don't know…block them out because of it, will you?" He ventured slowly.

Cam looked shocked.

"Lily and James are our friends." It was her husband who answered, however, specking slowly and quietly. "We have no longer have children of our own, or any close living relatives. They and their children are all those things at once, and so much more. It would take more than this to make us turn our backs on them. Especially when they will need us most. It would be a lie to say the next few days shall be easy on them."

Cam smiled warmly Mark, before turning to Remus.

"My husband is a man of few words, Remus Lupin." She said in her welsh lilt. "But when he speaks, it would take the hounds of hell to make him back on his word."

Mark nodded his agreement, and the three lapsed into silence. It was a comfortable silence, despite the fact they were practically strangers to each other, the kind of silence bought on by the thought of a shared goal. The three were now comrades, going into battle against an unknown foe. And they had made it their duty to make sure every one came out alive at the other end.

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And so another chapter finishes….And I can officially say the next chapter is THE chapter. Three guesses as to what happens. So review! And I'll post next Monday! 


	8. In Which Things are Perfect

Hola! I'm getting this one in on time! Wahoo, go me!

It's an awfully, awfully short chapter, this one, but it finishes on such a good…finish…that I had to stop. Don't worry, though! No cliffie! I swear!

This story is also continuously turning out more and more back story than I had at first realised – I found myself writing bits of Lily and james's wedding yesterday – and because of that the chapter layout may change in a few chapoters time, but I'll give you more warning if and when it happens.

Fresh ginger biscuits to **PHEONIX39, seikinoko, Len87 **and** Mei1105** for their lovely reviews! But still none of you have quite guessed the actual happenings, although a few got pretty close!

On with the chapter!

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The six adults were once more gathered in the living room of the Potters home. The two children had disappeared – Remus presumed to bed – and Dumbledore had returned, carrying two stone basins, about the length and width of your average kitchen sink, but shallower. One contained a shivery, silver liquid; while the other was empty, and it was with great reverence that Dumbledore placed them on the table in the centre of the room. Chairs had been abandoned in favour of the floor, and now they all sat, gathered around the strange bowls, listening to Dumbledores explanation.

"These," he began, "are penasi. That's plural for pensive. A pensive is basically a way of viewing memories – the actual event, not the vague, half formed idea that lives in your head. The brain is like an enormous filing cabinet, every event stored neatly away. If you know where to look, you can pour every moment of your life into this, and view it all over again."

"So you think our memories are still in here," James said, tapping his head, "and you want to take them out, put them one of these bowl things and let us watch them all over again?"

"Yes and no. I do believe all your memories are still with you, locked up out of reach. But to view them all would take another 37 years – there is no fast forward button. No, what I hope to try is to extract from you a few early memories, of each of your childhoods. I am hoping that, once the way is open, the rest will simply unfold."

"So, quite literally, our lives would flash before our eyes." Said Lily.

Dumbledore smiled. "That is what I hope."

"So how do they get their memories in there?" Frowned Cam, looking from her friends to the stone basins and back.

Dumbledore sighed. "Normally, a witch or wizard would use their wands to remove the memory. The removal itself is not tricky – you simply need to think of where in your life the event occurred, and in this case I will help you from putting in too much. However, with Remus' or my own wand, the effect will not be as good as if you had your own. A wand will never work as well for anyone else as it does its owner."

Dumbledore drew out his wand, and the four non-wand bearers leaned forward to examine it.

"It looks like a stick." Said Cam.

Dumbledore smiled. "A stick, maybe. But could a stick do this?" He waved his wand in the air, and a bunch of flowers appeared out of nowhere. Dumbledore took them and handed them to Cam.

"They're real." She gasped, touching them gingerly.

"Well, I guess that's proof, if ever we needed it." Said James, sounding impressed. "Flowers out of thin air. Useful for valentines day."

Lily and Cam both looked indignant, causing the four men in the room to all chuckle.

"Now," Said Dumbledore, suddenly serious again, "Lily. James."

He offered Lily his wad, and James took Remus'.

"Take the wands." Dumbledore instructed. "And place them to your foreheads."

Hey both did so, watching Dumbledore with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

"I'm going to have to help you now." He said, moving to it next to Lily and gripping her wand arm. "I need you to think back as far as you can. Ignore the fact that you can't remember it; just go to the point in the darkness where your early memories should be. Ill help guide you, Lily. Remus, if you could."

Remus nodded, and moved net to James, imitating the headmasters' movements.

"Now. Picture the moment of the memory. Remus and I are here to help pin point the right spot, so don't worry. Just feel the point of the memory you want, and slowly bring your wand away from your head and into one of the basins."

Slowly, with only slightly shaking hands, first Lily, then James, began to move their wands towards the penesi, Lily into the empty one, James into the fuller. Cams hand rushed to her mouth to prevent the gasp from escaping and possibly ruining her friends concentration as a strange silver thread started to come away from their foreheads.

"And…stop." Dumbledore pulled slightly on Lily's arm, and Remus copied him with James's, and the silver disappeared.

All four sat back, letting out breath they hadn't realised they had been holding.

"So that's it?" Asked Cam curiously, peering at the silver liquid that had appeared in the bottom of Lily's basin.

"That's it." Agreed Dumbledore. "Memory."

"So what do we do now?" Asked James, frowning slightly at the bowl. "Drink it?"

Dumbledore smiled. "No. You place your wands into the substance. That will transport you inside the memory – you will see everything going on, but they will not see you. Since the memory is very short, once it is finished, you will instantly come back out again. Hopefully, that will be the trigger you need."

James nodded. "Ok." He took a deep breath and looked at his wife. "Ready?"

Lily nodded. "Ready."

As one, each raised their wand, and, with only a slight hesitation, plunged them into their respective pensive. There was a moment when their bodies went rigid, and then they both fell very, very still.

"What's happened to them?" Asked Cam quietly, gazing at their still faces.

"Don't worry. Their minds have gone into the pensive. They're quite safe."

Neither Cam nor mark looked very reassured, but they said no more.

It would have been a stranger sight, had anyone been peering in through the window. Four adults, three men and one woman, sitting round two bowls and two apparently dead bodies, in an odd vigil, seemingly oblivious to anything else. And, tucked away in one corner, forgotten about for the time being, a small shadow watching the goings on with wide green eyes, peering through ropey wet red hair.

They sat for some ten minutes without either of the Potters moving a single muscle. Then, almost un-noticed, one of Lily's fingers twitched. Then another. Her eyelids fluttered, but did not open, and her breathing deepened. Moments later, James did the same.

"The memories have finished." Said Dumbledore softly. "Now we must see if it worked."

James opened his eyes first. He sat up slowly, gingerly rubbing one arm to restart the circulation, looking up at the worried faces around him with a blank look.

Until he saw Remus.

There was a silence, not the comfortable silence of assembled friends, but a tension filled, wary one. Remus gazed back at James unblinkingly, keeping a carefully neutral face.

"Moony." Crocked James at last, emotion seeping out of every letter. Remus felt a wave of relief and joy and everything else sweep over him, and without realising that either of them had moved, the two suddenly found themselves in each other's arms, hugging and laughing and crying all at once. Remus kissed James's forehead before burying his face in his friends shoulder, breathing in the scent that his werewolfily strengthened nostrils had flared at from the moment they entered the house, hardly noticing the tears that were streaming down his cheeks, or the damp patch that was growing on his shoulder, indicating the same thing was happening to James.

Suddenly, another pair of arms appeared out of no-where, snaking their way between James and Remus, and a third head burrowed in between them. Not caring that their heads were banging against each other, that James's glasses were digging into the bridge of his nose, that Lily's hands still had wet paint on them which was quickly transferring itself onto Remus' clothes, not even noticing the strange noises coming from their own mouths – crying and laughing at the same time, leaving watery prints all over each others clothes, occasionally with one pair of lips finding another's forehead or cheek or shoulder…the three friends lost themselves in each other, and, for a moment at least, everything was perfect.

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Awww, bless 'em….A couple of pretty boring chapters now, I'm afraid…but chapters 12 and 13 are currently looking pretty good!

And remember – if you have me on alert/favourites without reviewing…I know who you are, where you live, and I have access to highly dangerous veterinary drugs and an even more highly dangerous cockerel called Errol…so REVIEW!

See you all next Monday!


	9. In Which Explanations Begin

Ok, this chapter isn't my favourite…especially the opening few pages…lots of explaining to do – these two have 16 years to catch up on!

I'm getting into a panic now, as to the number of chapters I have set by….going back to school means I'm lucky if I get one chapter done a week…for now, updates will continue at 1 week intervals, but there is a slight chance that that will go to fortnightly at some point. I'll keep you posted!

People who kept me posted with their thoughts and so receive many hugs, were **Sissyspacedout **(Start of an explanation as to what happened to Voldie in this chapter),** Mei1105, seikinoko, elocin **and** raining flowers**. You're all wonderful! Sorry if I didn't review reply to you this week…school is back with avengeance, and I've a feeling I missed a few. Won't happen again, promise!

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Eventually, the three broke apart. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Lily looked up and straight into a now familiar pair of twinkling blue eyes.

"Albus!" She gasped, her face breaking out into a wide smile as she engulfed the old man.

"Hello my dear." He said, returning the hug without hesitation. As she pulled away, Lily was sure she saw a tear trickle down into Dumbledores beard. But she said nothing, and neither did James, who had followed suit and hugged the older man.

"So it worked?" Asked Cam, a proud smile plastered across her face.

"Just a bit." Lily laughed, closing her eyes and thinking. "I can remember everything. My mum and dad…they're dead, Cam." She opened her eyes suddenly, the sorrow fresh in them. "They died years ago. Mum was killed, just after I turned 21. Dad died not long after. Broken heart, I reckon."

"My Dad was killed too." Said James softly. "One summer. Just after we left Hogwarts. Mum…she had a heart attack about five years later."

"You must both be careful." Warned Dumbledore quietly. "The door to your memories has opened, and now you can reach them at will. But some events that you won't think about until later may cause more pain as you realise and remember what happened."

Lily and James both nodded, already trying to remember more.

"Harry!" They spoke almost as one, Lily gasping and James half shouting.

"Remus." Said Lily urgently, turning to her friend. "You said he survived. Where is he?"

"Sirius." Said James suddenly. "Sirius was his godfather. He went to Sirius, surly?"

Both were looking desperately at Remus, who shook his head slowly.

"Harry survived." He said. "But…it was decided he shouldn't go to Sirius."

"Why the hell not?" Demanded James, slamming a fist into the palm of his other hand.

"You didn't tell me…didn't tell anyone…that you'd changed secret keepers."

Lily's hands flew to her mouth. "No." She whispered. "And Sirius would have been alive…unhurt…but you didn't…they didn't…"

"It is a very long story." Interjected Dumbledore. "The nights after your apparent death were confusing and muddled."

"We have time." Said James firmly. "Tell us what happened."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. The news reached me soon after the attack that Voldemort had turned up in Godrics Hollow. And that Harry, somehow, had survived. And Voldemort had disappeared."

He paused, allowing the news to sink in.

"I sent Hagrid there," he continued, when it became apparent neither Potter was going to speak, "To collect him. From what Hagrid tells me, Sirius arrived soon after he did, and asked to take Harry. Hagrid refused to give him over, since he was under orders from me to bring the child to Little Whinging. So Sirius leant Hagrid his bike, and Hagrid bought Harry to us."

"Little Whinging." Lily frowned. "I know that place."

"Your sister lives there." Said Dumbledore.

"No." Lily gasped. "Albus. You didn't. Petunia…you gave Harry to her?"

"I had no choice," Dumbledore said, bowing his head. "Voldemort was gone, for the moment, but his followers were out there. I had to act quickly to ensure that he survived the night. Harry survived thanks to the fact that you, Lily, were willing to give your life for him. It infused a protection into his very blood that meant while he lived in the same dwelling as someone who shred your blood, he could not be harmed. With your parents dead, Petunia was my only option."

"But surly…there must have been spells, other things you could have done to protect him?"

"None as sure as this."

Lily shook her head. "Oh Harry," she whispered, half to herself. Then, to Dumbledore, "But she'd have hated him. They all would. What sort of childhood is that?"

Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking much older. "I will admit I did not realise the extent of the discontent between you and your sister. Or I hoped that she might be able to overlook that when it came to an innocent child. I was wrong on both counts, and that I condemned Harry to that fate is something I shall never forgive my self for."

"But he's alive." Said James. "He's alive."

Remus smiled. "Very much so."

James opened his mouth, hesitated, and then plunged straight in. "And can we…I mean, could we…see him, maybe?"

"Of course." Said Dumbledore, sounding slightly surprised at the question. "I think it is safe to say I would be signing my own death warrant if Harry discovered I had been keeping his parents from him."

"When?" Asked Lily, determined to get an exact answer before the subject was changed.

"Tomorrow, perhaps?" Ventured Remus. "Albus or myself could get Harry from the Durselys…." His voice trailed off.

"Which would save an unpleasant confrontation." Finished James with a grin.

Remus coloured slightly. "Well, yes."

"It may be better if you met somewhere else…somewhere neutral, so to speak, this first time." Mused Dumbledore. "It saves a certain amount of awkwardness."

Lily and James both nodded simultaneously. They would probably have agreed to travel to China if it meant meeting their son again.

"Mrs Jenkins, I know, would be more than happy to oblige." Offered Remus. "She enjoys having a house full of people."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well then. Tomorrow, if Lily, James and I meet at Mrs Jenkins at…shall we say midday? Remus, if you could bring Harry along."

Remus nodded.

"Hang on," interjected Lily, "where does this Mrs Jenkins live? And who is she, for that matter?"

"She's my landlady, for the moment. I'll give you her address." Said Remus. "Her house isn't hard to find."

"Send Jane and Jack over to us," added Cam.

"Suzie's mum said she'd drop Gemma back at about two as well…" Lily said, mentally doing her rounds.

"We'll keep an eye out."

There was another silence, in which Lily was wrapped up in thoughts of her son. James, however, had been struck by an altogether more uncomfortable thought.

"Remus," he said slowly, "what happened to Sirius? And Peter? Did you ever find his body?"

Remus looked blank. "Body?"

"Yes. Peters body."

"Peters body?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake Remus, stop parroting. I don't want to think what torture they had to use on him to get our location out, but I guessed he must be dead the minute I heard Voldemort coming. Did. You. Ever. Find. His. Body."

Remus shook his head and put his head in his hands, feeling cold all over.

"There was no body James." He said softly. "Peter wasn't tortured."

"Then how…?" James spluttered, an uncomfortable thought rearing up before being firmly cast aside.

Lily, on the other hand, had put two and two together and made four. "You always said someone close to us was spying for Voldemort," she said softly, looking at Dumbledore, "but I never thought…"

"How can you say such a thing?" James shouted, making them all jump. "He kept us safe for as long as he could…Peter would never, ever have betrayed us."

"Oh, he did more than betray us." Spat Remus. The subject of Peter was a sore spot, and the knowledge of the news he had yet to impart had stretched his nerves to their finest. "He sold you both out to Voldemort. Then, when Sirius realised what had happened and caught up with him, he blew up a street, killed 12 muggles, transformed and disappeared, framing Sirius for those murders as well as yours. He sentenced his own friend to 12 years in Azkaban!"

There was a shocked silence. Remus coloured, looking embarrassed.

"Sorry." He muttered. "I shouldn't have…I didn't mean to tell you like that."

"Peter…I don't believe it." Whispered James. "The rat!"

"What happened afterwards, Remus?" Asked Lily quickly, before James could start to rant.

"The Ministry of Magic caught up with Sirius, and locked him up in Azkaban. Peter disappeared. I thought Sirius had betrayed you, and killed Peter."

"We have to get him out!" Cried James, leaping to his feet.

"Calm down, James." Said Remus with a slight smile at his friend's impatience. "If Sirius were still in Azkaban, do you think I would know the truth and still be doing nothing about it?"

"Oh…" James deflated a little, sitting back down next to his wife. "So what happened? How did you find out the truth?"

Remus ran a hand through his hair. "Three years ago, Sirius escaped. The Dementors are blind, so he transformed into a dog and swam for shore. He'd discovered where Peter was hiding."

"How did he find that out from Azkabam?" Questioned Lily.

"Peter was living as the pet rat of a wizarding family. They won a competition, and their photo was in the Daily Prophet. Peter was in it too, and of course Sirius could recognise him."

"So what happened? Sirius escaped, and went to you? Or you Albus?"

Remus smiled sadly. "Why should he? Neither of us had believed him before, we were just as likely to turn him back to the Ministry. Besides, you know Sirius was never one for sitting back when those he cared for were in trouble."

"What do you mean, in trouble? Surly Peter couldn't do anything if the entire wizarding world thought him dead."

Seeing that Remus was floundering, trying to tie up all the loose ends for his friends, Dumbledore leaned forward to explain.

"Voldemort was destroyed the night he tried to kill Harry. But he wasn't killed – his body was, but his mind was not. Some of his followers believed him gone forever, while others guessed he was not. And Peter had managed to put himself in a position where the minute he heard of any hint of Voldemorts return, he would be able to give an amazing amount of information on Harry."

"He was at Hogwarts?"

"Even better than that, from his point of view. He was the pet rat of Harry's best friend."

There was a stunned silence.

"And Sirius knew…he would have been the only one…" gasped Lily.

"Sirius knew Peter was at Hogwarts, close to Harry. He didn't know how close until much later."

"Oh my…so he escaped, and went to Hogwarts." Lily quickly filled in the rest of the story.

"Yes. Unfortunately, we all believed, for most of that year, that Sirius was after Harry."

"I was at Hogwarts that year as well." Put in Remus. "Teaching Defence against the Dark Arts."

Remus went on to tell Lily and James the events of his final few weeks at Hogwarts that year, and Dumbledore took over to explain Sirius's rescue. When they had finished, both Lily and James looked stunned.

"So he's still out there?" Ventured Lily at last. "Peter I mean."

"As far as we know." Said Remus with a shrug.

"And Voldemort? What's the situation with him now? Do you know if he's still alive?"

"He still exists, if that's what you mean. I wouldn't call it alive. He managed to return to his body for the brief span of one year, before being wrenched from it once again, some four weeks ago. Once again by Harry." Dumbledore supplied, carefully skipping over certain other happenings of that night. That was Remus's story to tell.

"How?" Asked James, amazed.

"Voldemort tried to possess Harry, with the hope that I would kill Harry with the idea of destroying Voldemort at the same time. However, Harry is so full of an emotion that Voldemort knows nothing of, that Voldemort was once more ripped from his own body. Defeated by the same boy, and the same power, as the first time."

There was another silence, as both Lily and James tried to absorb the news they had already been given, as well as get their heads around the fact that there was so much more to learn.

James suddenly leapt to his feet.

"I'm going outside for a bit." He muttered, disappearing out the door. Lily sighed, slumping back in her chair and rubbing her eyes.

"There's so much changed." She said, half to herself. "So much different. I can see why you warned us, Albus."

Dumbledore said nothing, taking no pleasure in his correctness.

Cam, however, was no stranger to cheering up her friend, and if this Lily was anything like the Lily she had known, she knew just the way to do it.

"Lily," she said, "do you think you could explain a bit about what you were talking about just then? Who exactly is this Voldemort person? What did he want? And who was Peter?"

Lily scooted closer to her friend, who leaned forward expectantly, jabbing Mark in the ribs to do the same. The old Lily had always liked explaining who people were and how things happened, and Cam had a feeling the new one wasn't that different at all.

Seeing the two muggles and Lily were engaged, Dumbledore caught Remus's eye and jerked his head meaningfully at the door. Remus sighed, knowing what the Headmaster wanted him to do, and knowing that he had to do it, but wishing he didn't all the same. However, he climbed reluctantly to his feet and traced James's footsteps out the door.

It took him some time to find his friend – from the bang of the front door, he guessed James had gone outside, but the courtyard was empty, and the gardens around the sides and back of the house were large, full of hedges and trees that obscured a persons view.

Eventually, Remus spied him, at the top of the courtyard, half out of sight thanks to an old stone building, leaning against the fence that separated the yard from the field next to it, in which several horses were grazing. He approached without a word, and leant next to him. There was some minute's silence, before James spoke.

"Tell me what's happened to Sirius, Moony." His voice wasn't angry, or excited. It was laden with a calm, emotionless acceptance that told Remus his friend had already guessed.

"He died." Said Remus quietly. "Four weeks ago."

James's face had gone a ghostly white. He swallowed tightly.

"How?" He said softly, gazing intently at one of the horses.

"Voldemort tricked Harry into going to the Department of Mystery's. The Order – Dumbledore restarted it when Voldemort first returned – found out, and went after them. Sirius was meant to stay at Headquarters, but Sirius…well, Sirius was Sirius. He got into a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange."

"No." Whispered James. "Of all people…all those times in school…we pranked her and those slimy mates of hers…Sirius was better than her!"

"He was." Said Remus soothingly. "But he was out of practise, and worried about Harry…and you know what Sirius was like. He could never resist goading an opponent."

James said nothing, and glancing across, Remus saw the tears trickling down his cheeks. The last of the evening sunlight cast a golden glow over the fields, contrasting cruelly and sharply with the storm of emotions playing out inside both men.

"Life's a bugger." Muttered James at last, unashamedly wiping his eyes. "You think its thrown everything it can at you, and then it just goes and rears its head again."

"Don't I know it." Remus said, a sort of strangled smile on his face. "I just got used to being on my own, loosing all of you one way or another…and then that gets torn up…but the I get used to having Sirius about again, and loving almost every minute of it…and that gets torn up too…then I'm alone again…and now I have you two back. Talk about not making your mind up."

A shadow fell across them, and suddenly Lily was there, leaning on the fence the other side of Remus. Her face too was streaked with tears.

"Dumbledore told me." She said, seeing her husbands questioning glace. "James…" She reached out one hand behind Remus's back, and her husband grasped it tightly, forming a comfortable sort of sandwich with Remus in the middle.

"What happened to Jane and Liz, Remus?" Lily asked quietly, not bothering to block the despondence from her voice.

"Liz was killed during a Death Eater attack, about two weeks after Voldemort was destroyed. It was a full moon…she was alone…"

"Oh Remus…" Lily shuffled closer to him, tears welling up again as she thought of her friend, and the pain she knew Remus would have put himself through, blaming himself for her death.

"And I've heard nothing from Jane since the day she left." He continued, fighting back the sob that was rising in his throat, bitterness entering his voice for the first time. "She didn't come to the funerals…yours…Liz's…Peters…I guess she knew about Sirius's imprisonment, but I presume not his death. I don't know where she is, or even if she's still alive."

And then his voice broke, and the three friends simply stood there, arms wrapped round each other, tears streaming down their faces as they each thought of times, and friends, now gone.

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Awww, bless 'em! Update next Monday! And REVIEW! Please! I'll make brownies!

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	10. In Which Stories are Told

Greetings all! Here's to hoping you are all well!

This was a really awkward chapter to write, due mainly to my Doctor Who obsession, which suddenly flared up again in the middle of it, and lead me to write several chapters of that story instead. (Posting begins once I've finished this one). So…it's not my best. Bit more of Jane though, for those of you who were asking! She very shortly becomes a central plot point, so I hope you like her!

Loads more filling in of back story, I'm afraid…but it needs to be done!

The angels who made my week with their lovely reviews are **seikinoko, Haunted, Mei1105, raining flowers, just.a.reader.not.a.writer, jaydubya12401, Grotesque Supermodel, gilmoreaholic **and** PHEONIX39**

And special gold stars to **raining flowers** and **Grotesque Supermodel,** who both noticed my surly instead of surely…just checking to make sure you were paying attention, you see! Grins

Never have a sister as a proofreader. Never. Ever. After all the surly problems etc of last weeks un-beta'd version, I asked my dear sister to proof read this chapter. At 5 this afternoon. I have just returned, at half ten. And has the little darling done it? No. What has she done? Chatted on MSN. Read some fanfiction – conveniently, not mine. So, yet again, I must present you with a self-proofed chapter. My apologies – send complaints to Beth, who will have done next weeks on time. Mutters and glares

Woo! Loads of new faces! Amazing what a subtle change to the summery does for you! Or maybe it was the brownie bribe…hehe…anyway, enjoy!

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They turned to head back to the house, and as they approached, began to make out the shape of Cam standing in the doorway. Her face was worried.

"Lily…James," she said hesitantly.

"What's wrong Cam?" Gasped Lily, coming forward ahead of the others.

Cam shook her head. "Nothings wrong…not really…its just…I think you have a fair amount of explaining to do." And she stepped aside to reveal a small, dressing-gown robed girl with a defiant look in her green eyes.

"Jane…"

"What's going on? You and Dad were knocked out, and then you woke up and you were all crying, and Gandalf's sitting in the living room." Her voice rose with each word, and the defiant look turned to one of confusion and distress.

"Oh Jane," Lily said, holding out her arms and hugging the child close.

"Come inside, and we'll explain." Said James quietly, taking his daughter by the shoulder and leading her back into the house.

As Lily and James tried to explain as much as they could to their oldest daughter, Remus slipped over to talk to Dumbledore, who was seated on the sofa.

"How do you think Harry will feel about having siblings?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't think even Sybil Trelawny could predict that reaction, although I dare say the youngest Mr Weasley will have a few choice words of advice on the subject."

Both suddenly became aware of a silence in the room, and looking up, saw all eyes were fixed on them.

"You're the man from the market." Said the child, recognition suddenly dawning in her eyes as she looked at Remus. "The one who nearly walked into the stall."

Remus smiled ruefully. "The very same." He admitted.

"And are you all really wizards?"

"Yep."

"Prove it."

"Why? Do you not believe your parents?"

The girl suddenly grinned wickedly. "Yep. But I want to see something else appear from thin air."

Dumbledore and Remus roared with laughter.

"She's your daughter through and through." Said Remus, gasping for breath and looking at James, who coloured slightly.

"Remus, Albus, this is Jane, our eldest daughter." Said Lily, trying and failing to conceal a smile. "Jane, this is Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore, old friends of ours."

"Wow. You have old friends now." Jane said, sounding very impressed by the idea. She turned to Remus. "Did you know Mum and Dad at the Magic School?"

Remus laughed. "Oh yes. Very well."

Jane grinned. "Tell us about it." She demanded, turning from Remus to face the room at large.

He father caught Remus's eye, and they both grinned.

"Well, Jane, there was this one time when your mum got so mad at your dad for constantly asking her out that she put a spell on him, so that every time he opened his mouth, he started singing "Heigh Ho," from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. It took us days to find a spell to stop it." Began Remus, eyes twinkling.

"And then there was the time…"

And so it continued, for much of the remainder of the evening. James, Remus, and occasionally Lily or Dumbledore, would dredge up some tale or another from years ago, and Jane, sitting cross-legged on the floor, spent most of the time howling with laughter. Cam and Mark, while slightly less vivacious in their mirth, were equally amused at the stories, and so the tears and doubts of earlier were slowly forgotten, for the time being at least.

Sometime later, a particularly large yawn from Jane made Lily look at the clock.

"Good Lord, its nearly ten o'clock. Jane, bed, right this instant."

"But mum…"

"Bed." Lily's tone was firm, and her eyes set. Jane rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet.

"Night." She groaned, dragging her feet out of the room ad ever so ever so slowly up the stairs.

There was a silence after she left, the remaining adults sitting with their own thoughts, occasionally sipping at the tea that Lily had produced at some point. Eventually, Dumbledore spoke.

"Lily, James." He said gravely. "I don't mean to break the mood, but I must know. What happened the night you were attacked?"

James sighed, and set down his cup.

"I remember seeing Voldemort coming up the path." He said slowly, thinking back to a night so long ago. "I think I might have yelled for Lily to run, but I'm not sure. Suddenly Voldemort, and at least one Death Eater, were there in front of me. I remember Voldemort raising his wand, and saying the killing curse, and the green…and then, I was falling backwards, and there was nothing."

"That's pretty much what I remember too." Said Lily. "I was in Harry's room, and I could hear James shouting downstairs. Then Voldemort appeared, and threw a killing curse at me. I remember seeing the flash of green, falling backwards and then…nothing."

"When I woke up, the house was destroyed." James continued. "I stumbled over to where I thought Lily and Harry should be, and Lily was just waking up too. There was no sign of Harry, but I could hear voices nearby. I thought they were Death Eaters, sent to make sure we really were dead. I panicked, and grabbed Lily's arm, or maybe her leg. I can't really remember."

"I heard James say 'grab Harry', or something like that, so I reached out my arm to get him…but he wasn't there. I tried to tell James, but it was too late."

"I thought she had him, so I apparated. I didn't care where to, as long as it was far away from Godrics Hollow. We appeared in the middle of the sharpest thorned roses you can imagine, and headed for the first light we could see."

"Our kitchen." Finished Cam.

Dumbledore sighed. "And still, I can think of no way that you could have survived the curse. Harry survived, so I thought, through the fact that Lily gave her life for his. I suppose the fact that she was willing to, and thought she had, was enough. In a way, that could work for Lily also – you, James, were willing to give your life for her. But then, Lily should have had the protection to destroy Voldemort. And that still leaves no explanation as to how James survived."

"It does clear something up though," said Remus, comprehension suddenly dawning on his face. "Do you remember, Albus? Hagrid always swore he saw Lily and James's bodies when he went to pick up Harry. Yet we never found them, and the muggle authorities had no idea what had happened to them."

Dumbledore shook his head. "We should have had more faith in him. Hagrid is not one to see things, even when blinded by grief."

"So while we were unconscious, or whatever we were, Hagrid and Sirius were both there." Said Lily with a frown. "Didn't either of them notice we were still alive?"

"Hagrid would have been concentrating on Harry alone, and once he saw your bodies, I doubt he would have gone in for a closer look." Said Dumbledore thoughtfully.

"Id say something similar for Sirius." Added Remus. "He went with the hope of warning you. When he saw he was too late, he would have gone straight for Harry, who was evidently alive. And when Hagrid took Harry, knowing Sirius, he would have left straight to find Peter."

"So the voices we heard…they must have been muggles. Policemen, maybe." Said James bitterly. "If only I hadn't panicked…if only I'd checked…"

"If onlys will do nothing now." Said Dumbledore softly. "You must not torture yourselves with thoughts on how things could have been. Look at how things are, instead, and be grateful for them."

His words bought little comfort to the two Potters and Remus, but they contained wisdom, which they could at least try and follow.

"What do we do now?" Asked James suddenly, looking at Dumbledore expectantly.

"What do you mean, now?" The older man asked gravely.

"Well, I mean, do we tell people we're still alive or what?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, thinking through different scenarios. "I think we have to tell the wizarding world, at least." He said at last. "Especially if you both wish to be involved with it once more."

Both Lily and James nodded immediately.

"And Harry, I dare say, will want to tell at least his close friends. It would be a hard secret for him to keep. Perhaps a small article in the Prophet, in, say, a weeks time. Nothing fancy – a few lines will cause stir enough."

Lily sighed. "It will mean we'll be stared at and whispered about, if we go to Diagon Ally. And hounded by the press, at least for a few days."

"I'm afraid it is the only solution I can think of. Much quicker than simply letting rumours fly round. Less drawn out, at least. As for the press hounding, and the staring and whispering, Harry may well have some experience with that he could share with you. But if you can think of anything else?"

Dumbledore looked expectantly at them both, but neither could think of a better plan.

"It will cause a sensation in other areas of our community than the press." Added Remus darkly.

"What do you mean?" Said Lily quickly.

"Voldemort has gone again, but his followers are much more alert to the fact that he can return this time, and so many are not making the efforts to turn their backs on him again. The discovery of the entire Potter family, once more living, will defiantly provoke some sort of response from them."

"That's not something I had thought of." Dumbledore admitted heavily. "Something will have to be done. You have no wands of course…perhaps we should hold off telling anyone until then."

His voice trailed off as, looking up, he saw both Lily and James frowning.

"I had my wand," said James slowly. "I remember. I had it in my hand when we apparated."

"Me too." Added Lily. "I'm sure of it. Wand in one hand, searched for Harry with the other."

Both turned to look at Cam and Mark. Mark frowned, and shook his head.

"I saw you when you came in. Nothing in your hands."

Cam, however, had gone a funny shade of pink.

"Wands…" she said slowly. "About this long, made of wood?" She gestured with her hands, and all four magic-folk nodded.

Cam groaned, and got to her feet. "Wait here." She said, disappearing out the door.

Remus and Dumbledore both looked curiously at Lily and James, who in turn looked at Mark, who shrugged.

"Barmy." He said simply.

As it turned out, in this case he was wrong. Cam reappeared some five minutes later clutching what looked like two sticks.

"Here." She said, passing them to Dumbledore. "These them?"

Dumbledore looked at them in amazement. Battered, chipped, and for some reason covered in soil, but still most defiantly wands. He handed them over to their respective owners, looking at Cam in disbelief.

"Where on earth did you find them?"

Cam blushed again. "A few mornings after Lily and James turned up, I was out sorting some beds round the roses for the winter. I found these two sticks just lying in the soil – they looked like plant supports to me, so I stored them away with the others. They've been in the pot by the kitchen door ever since, doing me sweet peas."

There was a stunned silence.

"You've been using wands as plant supports." Spluttered Remus at last.

"Well I didn't know they was wands." Said Cam, defensively. "And they've been jolly good plant supports, I'll tell you that. Best pot in the garden."

"I'm not surprised." Said Dumbledore. "The magical build up in un-used wands…I'm amazed you've not had a giant beanstalk."

Remus suddenly started chuckling. "Could you imagine what Ollivander would say if he heard?" He said, before collapsing into all out laughter.

"Ollivander is a wand maker." Lily explained to Cam and Mark. "Very proud of his wands. Oh, James, stop it…" for James too had collapsed into a fit of laughter, bursting out afresh every time he looked at his wand. In the end, Lily gave up fighting the smile that had been twitching at the side of her mouth, and giggled.

"I shall have to tell him next time I see him." Said Dumbledore, wiping his eyes and still grinning. "Ahh, laughter. A medicine to heal any soar."

Lily took her wand and flexed her fingers round it.

"It feels so…right." She said, waving it experimentally in the air. A shot of red and gold sparks flew out the end, making everyone jump.

"You'll have to be careful." Warned Dumbledore. "Years of not being used will have caused a missive build up of magic, not all of which will have seeped into the plants," - here James once more doubled over with laughter – "and so your spells will have an added…vumph, shall we say, for a while."

"But protection enough?" Asked James; serious now as he looked the old man.

"James, experience has that me that a Potter with a wand is a force to be reckoned with. You are both able to protect yourselves and your family as much as any amount of aurors or protective charms could."

James nodded, and his wand let out a little burst of sparks.

"Happy wands." Aid Remus with a grin.

Dumbledore climbed to his feet.

"I had better be off." He said. "Time has flown." He looked down at Lily and James, who both scrambled to their feet. "I cannot say what a pleasure it is to see you both alive and well." He said seriously. "And I look forward to seeing you both tomorrow. It was a pleasure to meet you both, Mr and Mrs Jones." He added, turning to face them. "I hope we shall see each other again. Remus, it was a pleasure to see you, as always. I shall see you in the morning. And do not forget to contact Nyphandora at some point, and tell her the outcome of today's happenings." He bowed slightly at each of the members in the room, and impulsively, Lily reached over and hugged him quickly. For a moment, he stiffened in surprise, but quickly wrapped his arms around her, and squeezed her gently. Then, letting her go, he stopped to pick up the penesi, and with one under each arm, disapparated.

* * *

And there we have it!

Next week…the flashbacks begin, some Harry-talk is shared, a few more missing years are filled in and more information about the Potters muggle lives! And maybe, perhaps, possibly…a proof reading! Perhaps if I tell her tonight, it will be done by next Monday…see you all then! And don't forget to review!


	11. In Which Remus Recalls

_Hello, I'm Beth, Emmas supposed lazy-good-for-nothing-sister-who-doesn't-proof-read-her-work-for-her. Last week, I was not, as she said, chatting on MSN, I happened to be doing my homework like the good little girl I am. It was her fault too though because she just mentioned it as she walked out the door. It was a sort of rushed "Oh Beth, read chapter whatever it was for me. Thanks, bye!" _(Not true. I asked her very nicely, with a please as well. And I was just walking in the door...except fate decreed I had to walk stright back out again.) _She didn't even say please or anything like that. Yes, well, anyway, I'm sorry. Oh yes, something else. Word puts a green squiggly line under it if the first word after speech doesn't have a capital letter. So whoever said it should be capitalised is, I'm sorry to say, wrong._

_Number of surly's in this chapter that Emma missed with the spell check 1. Amazing._

Sorry about that everyone, she was very tired last night….she's not normally that grumpy, I promise.

Sorry it's a day late! Didn't get back 'til half 10 last night, so I just rolled into bed…

OMG!!!!!!!!! All you Doctor Who fans out there!!!!!! I have won 2 tickets to see the premiere of Torchwood in Manchester tomorrow night!!!!!!! Dances up and down with excitement.

Ahem. Sorry about that.

I've realised I suffer a terrible disease that forces me to end practically every other chapter on some disappeartaing. I apologise, and hope I've not been annoying you all! And a million thanks to the lovely people whose reviews defiantly did not annoy me: **Athena Princess of Darkness, flower123, fufuakaspeechless, Tansiana, starlit jewel, seikinoko, Mei1105** (come online!!!!)**, Haunted, dweem-angel, RainingFlowers, Len87 **and** PHEONIX39**

Dedicated to **RainingFlowers**, who has put me right on my lovely grammatical ways, and put up with my repeated mistakes without loosing patience with me once! Constructive criticism rocks! And I think…I hope…I might have corrected the weird caps thing after speech….

* * *

"We'd better go." said Cam, getting to her feet and poking Mark upright. "You three have a lot of catching up to do." 

She remembered what Remus had told her earlier, and wondered how much Lily and James knew thus far. She was curious; she didn't bother trying to lie to herself. But close friendship with the two Potters had long ago taught her that there were some things they would not be happy discussing in front of people, even those who had, until a few hours recently, been their closest friends in the world.

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Mark, catching on to his wife's thoughts, interrupted her.

"Cam's right, Lily. You have 16 years to compare, and we would be in the way."

Lily shut her mouth, not even bothering to lie. Cam and Mark both knew her at least as well as she knew herself, and besides, she had never been a good liar anyway.

"Send the kids over in the morning." said Cam. "I need to clean out the stables, so they can help with that."

Lily nodded, suddenly unable to speak. Cam seemed to understand, however, and hugged her friend affectionately.

"Let us know, aright?" she whispered in Lilys ear. Lily nodded into Cams shoulder, and released her. She hugged James as well, while Mark, slightly more withdrawn than his wife, clasped each of them in turn on the shoulder. With a nod at Remus, the Jones left. Lily saw them to the door, and returned a few minutes later looking worried.

"I hope they're alright." she said. "I mean, they seemed ok. But…"

"It's a lot for them to take in." said James, trying to sound reassuring. "They probably just need time to think it all over." But he couldn't keep the strains of uncertainty out entirely.

"They won't turn away from you." said Remus, remembering his earlier conversation with the Jones'.

"How do you know?" asked Lily, slightly more aggressively than she had meant to.

Remus hesitated, unsure how Cam and Mark would feel if he told Lily and James of the promise they had made. "I know both of you well enough to know you wouldn't be such strong friends with people who were likely to abandon you." He said at last, not exactly lying, simply missing out bits of the truth.

Lily nodded. "You're right. Cam and Mark aren't like that. Although Merlin knows what we're going to tell Gemma and Jack."

The three had all seated again, Lily and James curled on the sofa and Remus in one armchair.

"They're the youngest two?" said Remus, trying to remember the faces from the photograph.

"Yeah. Jack is 6 and Gemma's 9."

"And Jane?"

"11. She's just left primary…" Lilys voice trailed off and her eyes widened. "Jane's just left primary school. She goes to high school come September. Do you think…?"

Both Remus and James shrugged.

"I don't see why not." said James. "Both her parents are magical. Loosing our memories won't have affected that."

"I wonder what she'll thing of that." said Lily, worrying again. "I mean, she's never been away from home before. And Hogwarts is a big place…"

"Lily, we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it." said James placating.

Lily looked slightly embarrassed.

"What did Harry think of it?" she asked suddenly, all thoughts eventually leading back to the following days meeting.

Remus frowned, suddenly realising how much he didn't know about the youngster. After that first year, when he had seen him on an almost daily basis, he had had very little to do with Harrys daily life, bar the occasional letter, normally via Sirius.

"I don't know." he admitted at last. "I first met Harry during his third year, when I went to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"You said." said James. "But I thought…I dunno what I thought. I just presumed you'd have met him earlier."

Remus shook his head. "I wanted to." he admitted. "I fought Albus hard once I learnt Harry had survived – me and Liz both did. We wanted custody, since we knew he wouldn't have much of a life with Petunia. But Albus refused, and then Liz was killed…I owled Mrs Figg every now and again, and she'd write back saying he was fine, but Albus said it was best I didn't met him, at least not until he knew of his heritage. I don't think he quite trusted my self restraint when it came to Harry."

"Mrs Figg?" asked James, his tone questioning.

"You must remember her. Arabella Figg, and her sister Isabella. Squibs, did a lot of work keeping an eye on the muggle side of things for the Order. Albus asked her to move to Little Whinging, to keep an eye on Harry."

Lily nodded slowly.

"Self restraint?" questioned James, eyebrows raised. Remus, despite his earlier outburst, was the most self-restrained person he knew.

"I got a bit…er…worked up," said Remus carefully, "when it came to the custody of Harry. Since you two, Jane and Sirius were all gone, Liz and I had to take it upon ourselves to be slightly more vocal than usual. I think Albus was worried that, if I saw Harry, I might kidnap him."

"And would you?" James asked, eyes twinkling.

"Maybe." said Remus calmly, avoiding the question.

"So what was he like? When you met him?" Lily pressed.

Remus paused for a moment. Unconscious, was the first word that came to mind, but that defiantly wasn't a good idea. But he'd never been good at lying.

"It was on the Hogwarts Express." he said at last. "First day of term. I'd got on early and fallen asleep. Harry and his two friends, Ron and Hermione, they must have come in sometime later. The security around the school was being heavily increased, due to everyone believing Sirius was trying to kill Harry, and just before we arrived, the train was stopped and searched."

Remus had said this in a voice that was too grim, even for the subject of Sirius's wrongful perusal.

"Who by?" whispered Lily.

"Dementors. They came into each of the carriages, looking. Needless to say, everyone panicked. All the lights were out, people kept moving around. That was enough to wake me, even if the dementors hadn't. I didn't really clock Harry then, I was more concerned about what was going on. Then a dementor appeared in the doorway, and…" his voice trailed off.

"And what?" asked Lily sharply.

"And Harry sort of fainted." admitted Remus. "Just seized up and fell to the floor. I did a patronus, and the dementor left. It was then that I clocked exactly who had fainted for the first time. He came round a few moments later, and I gave him some chocolate."

Despite the horrified look on his face, James managed to crack a weak smile. "Chocolate. Solution for everything."

"Of course."

"Why did he collapse?" asked Lily quietly. "Did they…touch him, or anything?"

Remus shook his head. "You know what dementors do." he said. "We've all seen one at some time."

"They make you re-live your worst memory." said Lily with a shudder.

"Even if you yourself cannot remember it." clarified Remus. "And Harrys worst memory…well, it was of you two. Apparently dying."

There was a stunned silence.

"Oh Harry…" moaned Lily, the small part of her brain not taken up in distress over her eldest son registering the fact that she was probably going to be saying that a lot over the next few weeks.

"I shouldn't be telling you all this." said Remus after a pause. "You need to hear it from Harry."

James nodded mutely. "What about Sirius?" he said haltingly. "Those two years you had…what were they like?"

"Strange." said Remus. "At first, anyway. We forgave each other for not believing the other, but it took a while for us to get back to our old friendship. And even then, Sirius was different. More moody, some of the time. And more needy at others. Didn't help that the first few months he spent abroad, hiding from the Ministry. But it kept him out of trouble, at least."

"So why'd he come back?"

"Harry needed him." Remus's tone was final, and both Lily and James realised they would get no more out of him about Harry that night.

"Then…then Voldemort returned to full power, and the black dog was no longer enough of a disguise. Dumbledore made Sirius stay in 12 Grimmauld Place."

"No!" James gasped in horror. "Why on earth would he do that?"

"It was Sirius's house by then, and we were using it for the Order Headquarters."

James shook his head. "How long was he there for?"

Remus sighed heavily. "Nearly a year. He was killed before he got out again properly."

"He must have hated it." said Lily. She knew only perhaps one half of the full extent of Sirius's story with his family, but it was enough to give her a pretty good idea of what being cooped back up there would have meant to him.

"Hate is an understatement." said Remus softly. "It was better in the holidays, I think. The house was fuller – six teenagers plus assorted Order members. I stayed over during term time sometimes…but the way he looked at you when you left the building…" Remus shuddered. "It wasn't Sirius."

A despondent silence fell.

"We've missed so much." said Lily quietly. "All this life…I keep thinking 'I remember', but then that reminds me of how much I'll never know to be able to remember. If that makes any sense."

James nodded. "Same. But…it'll get better."

However, he didn't sound convinced, and from the look on Lilys face, she wasn't either.

"Tell me about the other children." said Remus, turning the conversation to an area they knew through and through. "Jane, was it? And Gemma and Jack."

It worked. Both Lily and James smiled, pride radiating off them in waves.

"Jane's an odd child." said James affectionately. "Multiple personalities, I think."

Remus chuckled. Only James Potter would say his child had a multiple personality disorder.

"Half the time she's shy as a rabbit, especially with people she doesn't know. But then she can be really chatty, and always moving. Lots of the time she's quite serious, but sometimes she's high as a kite."

Lily rolled her eyes. "She's not high James." she said, in the tone of one who's said it a thousand times before. "Drug addicts go high. She's just…happy."

James snorted. "High, my beloved wife. Normally on sugar."

"And I wonder who she gets that from." Lily sighed, glaring at her husband. "I'm beginning to realise where Jack gets it from, remembering what you could be like."

Remus grinned inwardly. "What does Jack do?" he asked.

"He looks like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth." said Lily, trying to conceal the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "But honestly! Last week I caught him dangling a carrot over the wall into Cams horse field, on the end of a string. Every time Knick-Knack came near it, he scooted along a bit further. I've never seen the poor horse look so confused in its life. I told Jack off for teasing it, but he looked at me so innocently and told me he thought Knick was to fat, so he was making him exercise! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. There's no winning with that boy."

Remus laughed. "Defiantly his fathers son."

"Do you remember the time I found him in the courtyard, walking round in circles?" asked James with a grin, looking at Lily. "I asked him what he was doing, and he said 'tracking.' When I asked him what he was tracking, he showed me a row of footprints in the dust. The poor kid was tracking himself! He must have been wandering round and round for ages, just following his own two feet."

"I think Gemma had something to do with that." said Lily idly. "She often does."

Remus looked at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Gemma likes to think up 'games' to keep Jack amused." she explained dryly. "For all that he's mischievous, Jack is also amazingly gullible, and will do anything Gemma tells him. Although that's better than when the pair of them work together. Gemma's nosy, always asking questions, and she likes finding things out. Except she also likes trying out the things she reads about. Took us a week to persuade her blowing up a caravan to "see what happens" wasn't a good idea."

"Sounds like an interesting combination of personalities." said Remus, wondering to himself how and where Harry might fit in. The teenager had faced dark wizards, even Voldemort himself, and come out alive. But would he be able to handle an almost normal family life?

"What about you Moony?" asked James. "Apart from the year of teaching. What have you been up to?"

Remus shook his head. "Not a lot, I'm afraid." he admitted. "Surviving. I'm working in a second hand book shop at the moment."

"No partner?" asked Lily, looking hopeful. She knew Remus well enough to guess the answer. "Girlfriend?"

"Ex-wife?" added James helpfully.

Remus smiled slightly, before turning serious. "As I expect you guessed, no. Not since Liz died."

"What about the person Dumbledore mentioned? The one you had to remember to see? Was that a girls name?" persisted James.

"It was a girls name, and she's a friend I went to when I was perplexed by the last line of Lily's business card." said Remus simply. "And you've both met her, many years ago."

"We have?" Lily's ears pricked up.

"She's Sirius cousin. Well, second cousin. Andromedas daughter. At least 10 years younger than me, aside from anything else."

James slouched back in the sofa. "I dunno." he muttered. "You fall into a coma, wake up with your entire life wiped out, finally get it back 15 years later, and does your one remaining friend have any great excitement to share with you? No."

Remus couldn't help but smile. 20 years on, and James Potter had hardly changed a bit.

James flopped into an empty armchair, glasses askew and hair even messier than usual. Sirius and Peter both glanced curiously at him for a moment from their position in front of the fire, before turning back to the gobstones set out in front of them. It was one of the few games Peter could actually beat the other three Marauders at, and so it was played with great frequency. Remus, in another armchair, a thick book cradled in his hands, barely looked up.

_James looked carefully at his three friends for several minutes._

"_I dunno." he muttered at last. "You spend over an hour in the pouring rain, getting covered in mud, practising Quidditch so your house can win the Quidditch cup, decide to have a nice, relaxing soak in the prefects bathroom to warm up, only to discover it occupied, and have to wait nearly half an hour for it to empty, and then get yelled at for a further half hour by the delightful Miss Evans on your way back to the common room for being out the tower four minutes after curfew, and do your friends show even the slightest bit of sympathy? No."_

_Remus began to count in his head. He'd reached eight when Peter's shoulders began to shake. Eleven when his own mouth began to twitch. But at fifteen, Sirius shook the common room with a bark of laughter that had been building up ever since James opened his mouth._

"_Impressive." said Remus idly, turning a page. "15, Sirius. James, I'm afraid you're loosing your touch. Even Peter made it to eight."_

"_We're 6th years now, Prongs." said Sirius, trying and failing to look serious. "Surely that warrants a change of speech. I can almost recite it by heart."_

_The other three Marauders fell about laughing once more, while James glared at them from his chair, and across the common room, three teenage girls occasionally flicked their eyes over in curiosity as to what was causing tonight's particular bout of entertainment._

Much later that night, indeed almost the early hours of the next day, since he had stayed with Lily and James for several more hours, telling of old friends and acquaintances, and where they were now, Remus lay in his bed at Mrs Jenkins, and wondered how much more emotional strain his body could take. Recovering so many memories from the past fifteen years to share with his friends had been tough, especially having to break the news of the deaths of two of their best friends, and the betrayal of another. And seeing them so happy, so comfortable in a life that didn't even know of himself…that had been, if anything, even tougher.

But – and thank Merlin there were always buts – had he known, 24 hours earlier, the pain and distress going to the market would bring, would he still of gone? Remus laughed at his thoughts. Of course. There'd have been no stopping him. In the end, happiness, no matter how small, always, always outweighed the pain it took to reach it. And so, as the church clock began to chime one, Remus finally fell asleep, not knowing that, for the first time in a long while, he smiled as he slept.

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And there we have it!!!!! Review!!!! I'm off to decide what to wear tomorrow night!!!!!

Next week - First of the major flashbacks, and Remus confronts our favourite aunt!


	12. In Which Wedding Bells Ring

Several amazing things have happened since my last update.

Firstly, I finally finished chapter 14! We are back on progress!!!!!

Secondly…I WON TICKETS TO SEE THE SPECIAL SCREENING OF TORCHWOOD IN MANCHESTER!!!!! WHICH WAS AMAZING!!!!!!

Ok. I'm calm.

Sorry this is (yet again) a day late…I was out babysitting lsst night, and didn't get back till quarter to one…so am currently running on 6 hours sleep…so not good…

I fear my sister scared my reviewers off last week! I apologise for her immensely…please come back!!!! Those who braved her wrath, I send my love…**Haunted, flower123, Melody DeMort, GilmoreAholic, Bethy Ann, Tansiana, Mei1105, Len87, Whitelight72 **and** ballerinadoll9.**

On with the chapter!

* * *

To say Petunia Dursly was surprised to answer the door to a strangely dressed, bedraggled looking man at half past eleven one August morning would be an understatement. Shocked, horrified and disgusted would be better words - she seemed to have been rendered speechless by the very sight of him. 

"If you're begging, you've called at the wrong house." She snapped finally, sensing the man was waiting for her to speak.

"Petunia." The man said, inclining his head respectfully. "As delightful as ever."

The woman's eyes narrowed. Glancing nervously up and down the street, she seized the man by the shoulder and yanked him over the threshold.

"I don't know who you are, or how you know my name, but whatever you want, get it over with." She hissed, glaring at him in the hallway, which was surprisingly dark compared to the outside sunlight.

"My name's Remus Lupin." Remus said mildly, watching the woman's face carefully. It took a moment, and then it appeared, just for a second. A flicker of recognition.

"I'm here about Harry." He finished, and the flicker appeared again, remaining for longer this time.

"You." Petunia spat. "You left that note last year."

"Yes." Said Remus cheerfully. "Is Harry in?"

"He's upstairs." Petunia moved aside reluctantly, nervously eyeing Remus's pocket. He smiled cordially at her as he passed, causing her to sniff with disdain.

"Harry?" Remus tapped lightly on the door at the end of the landing, having already stuck his head around a master bedroom, a bathroom, and a room so crammed with junk that he'd been surprised it hadn't buried him. Opening the door, Remus was met with a small, messy room, which, for some strange reason, made him beam. Perhaps the sudden reunion with his oldest friend had reminded him somewhat of the small details of their old lives…like the state of Sirius and James's side of the dormitory…whatever it was, it didn't matter. Today, and tomorrow, and all the days after that…they were going to be good days.

This happy thought was interrupted by Harrys incredulous voice.

"Professor?"

Harry was sitting on the small bed, an open textbook in his lap, although something told Remus Harry hadn't been reading.

"Hello Harry." Said Remus nonchalantly, as though he walked into his ex-pupils bedrooms everyday of the week.

Harry simply gaped.

"I've come to pick you up." Elaborated Remus after a moment. Harrys face instantly brightened.

"Are we going to the Burrow?" He asked, hastily throwing a few books into his open truck.

Remus sighed slightly, and caught the teenager's arm. "Not the Burrow. And not for so long that you need your trunk. I expect this to be a day trip only."

Harry frowned, disappointment and curiosity wrestling across his features. Remus's face was curiously closed, even for the self-contained man he was, but Harry had the feeling his old teacher was dancing inside. It was in the slight glint of his eye, and the corner of his mouth that just would not be tugged down, and it, like so much else, made him wonder.

"Where are we going then?" Harry asked, slightly irritably, as he scrambled to his feet.

"You'll see." Remus smiled mysteriously, pulling the door open and indicating for Harry to leave ahead of him.

Petunia was still standing in the hallway, apparently determined to make sure the scruffy looking man left her house.

"I'm taking Harry out for a while." Said Remus calmly, inwardly thankful the husband didn't seem to be home. He was in too much of a good mood to be drawn into an argument.

Petunia sniffed as Harry walked past her without acknowledgement.

"You shouldn't sniff like that, Petunia." Remus added conversationally. "You always looked so much nicer when you smiled."

He smiled at her, nodded his head and left, shutting the door behind him. But not before he had seen, and taken note of, the shocked look on Petunias face. So she did remember after all…

_Of course, it had been a perfect_ _day_. _Even if it had thundered, the minister had forgotten, the reception site had cancelled at the last minute and the Best Man had lost the rings, it would still have been a perfect day. For the wedding of Mr James Potter to Miss Lily Evans, it could never be anything less. Thankfully, the June day had been fine, the minister had been a young man of about 25, desperately keen to prove his worth, the reception had been held in a marquee on the primary school field in Lilys home village, and Sirius had given the rings to Remus until the last minute for safe keeping._

_Lilys farther had walked her up the aisle, looking as proud as any man on his daughters wedding day. The two mothers had, of course, been crying their eyes out in the front row, an equally sniffy Peter sitting between them. Sirius stood at the head of the aisle, practically bursting with pride – as he would later say in his speech, he still held himself responsible for the incident that finally bought the pair together. And next to him, looking paler and more nervous than Remus had ever seen him, even before his final Quidditch match at Hogwarts, stood James, hair forever stubbornly all over the place, glasses slightly wonky, staring fixatedly at the back of the church._

_Sitting on the other side of James's mother, who was fussing over an emotional Peter – years later, Remus sometimes wondered whether Peter had already been passing information to Voldemort at that point, and his apparent joy was simple acting – Remus quietly followed James's gaze. Much as he loved her, it was not Lily he was waiting for. Liz, co-maid of honour, had been stubbornly refusing to even hint at what Lily had picked out, and so, like James, he awaited a first glimpse of the woman he loved walking down the aisle. It wasn't his wedding – not yet, anyway – but the effect would still be the same._

_Therefore, it was only Remus and James who saw the figure slip into the back row, and only Remus who wasn't worked up enough to actually take in who the person was, and the significance of her arrival._

_Petunia Dursley, despite stating many times to the contrary, had turned up for her sisters wedding._

_Remus smiled to himself, seeing the way the woman slipped in, the way she wasn't sitting on the front row letting all the world see she didn't want to be there…and knowing that that meant she was here of her own choice, and not because anyone had made her come._

_It was an odd service, to say the least. Neither Lilt nor James were religious in any way shape or form, and so the wedding was held in front of a wizard minister. A small village church was used, because Lilys mother was determined to have some say in her daughters wedding, but a bit of quick spell work from Sirius meant the vicar booked to do the service would sleep for the entire day, before waking up the next morning believing to have conducted the service._

Therefore, the vows were slightly unorthodox ("I shall love thee until my dying day, but if the day cometh when thine head re-inflates and thee needeth a good hexeth, one be-eth ready,"), the readings were quite unorthodox (ranging from 'Pride and Prejudice' to 'Hogwarts; A History') and the hymns…the hymns were something else altogether.

_In reality, they do not quite deserve the description of "hymns". Jane, being muggle born, had never been weaned off her love of radio, magically configuring hers to work anywhere, even Hogwarts. She had begged Lily and James for the job of "hymn selecting", and they had, eventually, granted it to her. _

_So after an opening number of "All things bright and beautiful", a slightly different path was taken. "Summer of '69", "Build me up Buttercup" and "Thank you for the Music" (many of the magical guests here substituted music with magic) were all selected, with a rousing chorus of "Bohemian Rhapsody" to round off the service. _

_Definitely not your average wedding._

_By the reception, Petunias presence had been noticed by her parents and her sister, and so she was subject to some scolding from an anxious Mrs Evans for not RSVP-ing, and thus leaving them one place short. But a quick bit of wand work, which Petunia barely even flinched at, and James had an extra place, neatly between Remus and Peter._

_It had been difficult at first – since both Sirius and Jane, the main conservationists of the group, were seated at the top table as best man and co- maid of honour, there were several awkward silences before conversation began to flow easily. Seated with several other Hogwarts friends, including the Longbottoms and McGonagall, it surprised Remus that Petunia didn't faint at the presence of so much magic. But although she paled slightly the first few times wands were mentioned, and nearly jumped out of her seat when Frank Longbottom summoned the salt, she said nothing. And after several goes, a slow, halting conversation was started up, which soon gave way to a much pleasanter talk. Peter accidentally let slip his long standing obsession with a muggle radio programme, and Petunia instantly seemed to forget all her inhabitations, and let loose on the various plot lines, twists and scandals of the previous week._

_And then it was time for speeches. _

_Sirius clambered to his feet, forsaking the more traditional tapping of a glass in favour of an "Oi! Shut up, the lot of you!"._

_Needless to say, that worked much better._

"_Thank you. Now then, we all know why we're here. Or if you don't, you've either drunk way to much, or you're Peter, and you've forgotten." Peter went bright red as the Hogwartians laughed – his bad memory was infamous throughout the school. _

"_For those of you who don't know me, my name is Sirius Black, and I've been James's friend since he accosted me many years ago, on our first train journey to Hogwarts. And I've spent the 10 years since putting up with the detentions, love-sick sighs, loyalty and friendship that come in a package with him."_

_James smiled at his friend, his new wife squeezing his arm affectionately._

"_Of course," continued Sirius, "It hasn't all been plain sailing. There's been more than one occasion when some of us present have doubted this day would ever come – indeed, I know for a fact that several people expected Lily and James to finish each other off before the end of our Hogwarts years. At one point, I believe the odds were 7 – 1 on Lily pinning my young, innocent friend here to the Whomping Willow."_

_Everybody laughed – even Lilys muggle relatives, most of whom knew of Lilys magic, although they're minds did not quite stretch to a willow that actually whomped._

"_I once promised James that, if he ever married, I would live up to the job of giving the most embarrassing speech ever. So here goes."_

_Sirius winked at James, who felt his stomach sink._

"_Not many of you know this, but James first declared his love to Lily on the 1st September, 1969, at the age of 11. Over the next 7 years, he proceeded to repeat the sentiment in a number of interesting and imaginative ways. Flying up to her dorm window on his broom, and serenading her through the window in our fifth year defiantly wasn't a good idea. Neither was spelling it out in lilies on the front lawn in our third. And I lost count of the times Lily swore she would rather date the giant squid, Snape, or even, on occasion, Dumbledore. Sorry Professor, but it seems your charms are not enough."_

_Both Lily and James were similar shades of red as their guests roared with laughter._

"_And then there were the bets placed on this legendry pair. Who would kill who first? What imaginative and descriptive idea would Lily come up with the next time my dear friend talked to her? Not to mention, by the time of our seventh year, when on earth either of them were going to actually see the light and snog each other silly! You know, after 6 years of constant nagging for a date, always knowing she'd say no, when it finally looked like she might say yes…the stupid idiot stopped asking her! Although, considering the track record, perhaps that wasn't a bad idea. Even so…I blame those weeks of sexual frustration for Moonys premature greyness!"_

"_But I think that, deep down, even when Lily was declaring undying love for the giant squid, we all knew that, really, these two were meant for each other. So much that back in our third year, a sub clause was added to the Marauders constitution - "Rule 26: I do solemnly swear never to enter into a romantic commitment"; the new clause reading "Rule 26 granted null and void if commitment entered has been fully approved of". And after careful consideration, we decided that we fully approve of this relationship. Not that any of us could have stopped you anyway."_

"_So despite all, here we are, gathered together to witness this happy day, and listen to a strange man ramble on about things half of you don't understand. So I'll shut up! After asking you to all raise your glasses, to Prongs and his Tiger Lily!"_

_The audience rumbled to its feet, voices echoing Sirius's toast, while James and Lily sat together, both beetroot red under all the attention._

"_Now that Sirius has finally finished, I'll begin." Jane's voice cut through the chitchat as everyone else sat, and she remained standing. "I'd like to tell you all a story, about a beautiful Princess who lived in a magic castle. She and her two friends spent their days learning great secrets, performing daring deeds, and having a wonderful time all the while. But like all fairy tales, there has to be a villain, or in this case, 3. Two whole villains, and two half ones. And many times the fair princess would fight the leader of the villains, for many times he would come begging at the castle doors for her hand."_

"_And the rest of her too!" Added Sirius cheerfully._

"_And every time the Princess would refuse him." Jane continued, glaring at Sirius. "Until, one day, the Princess and her friends began to see that the villains were not all that villainous at all. Indeed, on occasion, they were almost as nice as the Princess herself. And one of the princesses fair friends even went as far as to fall in love with one of the villains, who had only been a half villain to begin with, and was barely quarter villain by this time. And then slowly, ever so slowly, the princess began to see the better side of the villains, especially their leader. Until, one day, the princesses other friend, and another of the villains could take it no longer, and locked the pair of them in an empty classroom after an important meeting. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we got here today, witnessing the marriage of the beautiful Princess to her fine villain, and not, thank Merlin, to the giant squid."_

"_Did Lily really hate him?" Petunia asked Remus and Peter under the applause._

"_Not hate." Said Remus. "Not exactly. Severely disliked, defiantly." _

_Petunia smiled. "Sounds like Lily." She agreed in a whisper, as Mr Evans began to speak. "Never one to mince her words."_

_Last to speak were Lily and James, who stood up together._

"_We'd like to thank you all for coming today." Started James. "And for putting up with our somewhat different style."_

"_Can I just say that the 'hymn' selection had nothing what so ever to do with us, and if anyone has any comments on it, please see my wonderful Maid of Honour."_

_Jane laughed, and waved merrily._

"_Special thanks," continued Lily, "Must go to our various friends and relatives for putting up with our mad ideas, as well as the afore mentioned six years of animosity. And to those of you who I didn't think could make it…" for a moment, Lilys eyes meet with her sisters, "Thanks are not enough."_

"_To Prongs and Tiger Lily!" Cried Sirius again, leaping to his feet once more. And the marquee erupted in applause._

_As the guests began to filter away from the tables, moving into their own groups while they waited for the dancing, Lily came over and embraced the sister warmly without warning, pulling the older woman's bony frame into a grip that would have made a boa constrictor proud._

"_Thank you." She whispered in Petunias ear. "I…just…thanks."_

_Petunia smiled, determinedly ignoring the tear attempting to poke out the corner of one eye._

"_I've been an idiot." She said softly. "And I'm sorry."_

_Lily beamed. "And I'm sorry too."_

_It wasn't enough – to much had been said and done for it all to be abolished by a few simple words. But it was started, and perhaps, when they both had more time, and weren't in the middle of a wedding, then perhaps, things could start to be all right._

_Sober _

_Much later, Petunia would decide it had been a good night. Finding herself stranded in the middle of a room full of people she did not know, but who possessed magical tendencies, was not an occasion she would normally enjoy, but that night…that night, at least, was different._

_Perhaps guessing she was not totally at home here, or perhaps they were just like that anyway, Remus and Peter in particular, who had no duties as Best Men, Maids of Honour or brides and grooms, seemed to go out of their way to make her feel at ease. Peter continued their previous discussion about the Archers, becoming surprisingly animated, while Remus plied her for information about muggle books and authors. She was introduced a the whirl wind that was Jane, and the stillness that was Liz, and the strangeness that was Sirius, and the deep, unflinching, un-dying friendship that was the Seven Marauders and Co, and for a while, she was with them, and for that night, seven began to become eight._

_A final slow dance came on, and so Remus claimed Liz, and James his new wife, leaving Petunia and Peter standing awkwardly alone. A little shyly, he offered her his hand, and, smiling ever so slightly, she took it. He was half her size, clumsy, kept blushing and standing on her feet, but it didn't matter. Sometime in the middle of the song, Sirius seized Jane, and the pair of them began causing chaos by tearing about in an ungraceful, tango style dance._

_The absurdity of the situation hit her suddenly, as Peter stood on her foot, blushed and apologised yet again, and Sirius and Jane sent an unsuspecting Alice and Frank Longbottom flying. She was standing in a room full of wizards, touching and even dancing with one, and she was having the time of her life. And for the first time in many years, Petunia Dursley nee Evans laughed, a proper, head flung back, tears in eyes, laugh. Peter had gaped at her in astonishment, but at that moment, she didn't care what anyone thought. Anyone at all._

_And then, suddenly, it was all over. Lily and James disappeared in what Jane had described as her baby – a dented, pale blue van with "Just Married" spray painted over the sides, and the guests began to disappear. _

_The marquee was nearly empty, only the reaming Marauders left. Sirius waved a farewell, before gripping an ever so slightly tipsy Jane by the arm, and… disappearing. Petunia blinked several times, and suddenly a much more sober group of people surrounded her._

"_Petunia?" Questioned Peter. "How are you getting home?"_

_Petunia looked about stupidly, and realised for the first time that she had drunk far too much to even think of driving._

"_No idea." She giggled, vaguely remembering turning down her parents' offer of a lift. Opps._

_Peter chewed his lip nervously._

"_Its alright Peter." Liz laughed, apparently reading the mans mind. "We'll get her home."_

_Peter looked relieved. "I'm sorry." He squeaked to Petunia. "But I'm not much good at apparating, I wouldn't want to splinch."_

_Petunia nodded vigorously, wondering what on earth splinching was._

"_Bye Wormtail." Remus squeezed his friend's shoulder. "See you around."_

"_Bye Pete." Liz pulled the man into a one armed hug._

"_Goodbye, Petunia." Peter held out his hand, and Petunia shook it solemnly._

"_It was a pleasure dancing with you." She said seriously, breaking out into a wicked grin as the man blushed from the roots of his hair downwards._

"_Me and Liz are going to grip your arms quite tightly." Suddenly, Remus was by her side. "Just concentrate on that. Now, where are you going?"_

_Petunia supplied them with an address, and suddenly she felt like a tube of toothpaste, being squeezed from all sides. And then, just as suddenly, it stopped, and they were outside the Huntsman B&B._

"_Thank you." Petunia gasped, reeling slightly from the trip, hardly registering magic had just been used upon her._

"_Welcome." Liz said with a merry smile. "It was lovely to finally have met you." And she pulled the woman into a hug. Petunia stiffened, slightly surprised, but, after a moment, returned it with affection._

_Remus, like Peter, shook her hand solemnly._

"_I'm glad you came." He said. "I think…I know it meant a lot to Lily."_

_Petunia nodded tersely. _

"_Perhaps we'll see you again?" Liz asked hesitantly. Petunia frowned for a moment, wondering what Vernon would think…oh, to hell with it._

"_Perhaps." She said, smiling broadly._

"_Good." _

_Liz took her boyfriend's arm, ready to disappear once more._

"_You should remember tonight, Petunia." Said Remus quietly, tucking Liz's hand into his pocket._

"_I will." She promised, searching for a key._

"_I mean it. You look much nicer when you smile."_

_And the pair disappeared._

Petunia Dursley stood in her hallway, eyes open in shock. That had been the same man from Li…from _Her_ wedding? She grabbed the front door, yanking it open and looking disparately for some sign of the pair. But they had vanished.

Letting the door swing shut behind her, Petunia headed for the kitchen and sat down at the table. She wondered, for the first time in over 15 years, what had happened to the faces she had met that night. And thinking about the look in Remus Lupins eyes, beneath the strange sparkle that spoke of some current joy, she wondered if she really wanted to know.

It was only much, much later that night, as she lay awake next to the sleeping form of her husband and heard the click of the front door that indicated Harry had retuned from wherever he had been, that she realised she did.

* * *

Hehe, a little bit of Harry at last…review all! Please!!!!! Although the fanficiton alert service is playing up again, so I don't know when you'll know I've updated...anyway! Review!!! 

Next chapter….at last. The Meeting. Grins


	13. The Meeting

And here we go again…although, once more, the fanfiction alerts system seems to be down, so lord only knows when you'll get this…

My thanks to Tash (Mei1105), for helping me in the writing of this chapter…I got severe writers block halfway through, and so spent some time talking to her about it on MSN, which finally solved it! You are a star, my dear!

And at last, this is it…. the one you've all been waiting for…The Meeting.

And the lovely people whose reviews I wasn't left waiting for lats week were **Len87, PHEONIX39, seikinoko, ****flower123****Mei1105****, Haunted ****Tansiana**and** ballerinadoll9.**

Someone asked me a rather interesting question…as Lily is no longer dead, does Harry still have his "special powers"? I can't remember if I've already answered that or not, so I shall do so now! The mere fact that Lily was willing to die for Harry, and very nearly did, was enough to protect him when need be. And I shall say no more, cos that night features the biggest plot point of the whole story, and I keep almost letting it slip. Cackles evilly

And so, at long last….The Meeting.

* * *

Remus grasped Harrys arm firmly with one hand.

"Have you ever done a side-along apparation before, Harry?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Nope."

"I thought as much. Never mind. Just make sure you don't loose contact with my arm, whatever happens."

Harry opened his mouth to ask exactly what "whatever" might involve – in his experience it wasn't often anything good. However, before he could even begin to get the words out, everything went black. Harry felt as though he was being squashed through a coiled hosepipe, his innards starched and squeezed until they felt like outwards…and then, as suddenly as it had began, it was over.

"The sensation takes some getting used to." said Remus with a smile, as Harry gingerly massaged his ribs to make sure they were all still there.

Harry took a moment to spare Remus a doubtful look, before studying the new area around him. They had appeared behind what seemed to be a garden shed, a high hedge shielding them from a neighbouring garden.

"Professor?" Harry questioned. Despite Remus's claim to the contrary, he had been expecting the Burrow, or even Hogsmeade…not what appeared to be a sprawling garden in an area similar to Privet Drive.

"This way." was all Remus would say, leading the boy out from behind the shed and across the garden. "Don't mind the dogs, they're friendly."

Harry was half way through the "what dogs?" when a joyous bark, and something small, furry and wet colliding with his ankle answered his question.

"Barty!" a woman's voice cried, and moments later the woman appeared around the side of the house. "Bad boy. Sit DOWN."

Slightly stunned by the shout out of such a small woman, Harry half wanted to sit himself.

"Thank you." the woman smiled at the dog before turning to Harry.

"Isabella Jenkins." she said, extending one hand.

"Harry Potter." said Harry, shaking it slightly warily.

"They're inside." Isabella Jenkins continued cryptically, turning to Remus. "With Albus."

Harry's ears pricked. "Sir, why's Dumbledore here?"

"All in good time." said Remus, sounding oddly like the headmaster in question. "This way."

The house was neatly furnished, with pictures of dogs of every shape and size littering the walls and surfaces. Blinking in the dim light of the hall – for some reason, Remus had steered him away from the large glass doors on one side of the house, instead taking a much smaller side entrance through the kitchen – Harry began to make out the familiar shape of Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor, what's…" but once more, he was cut across.

"Harry, I know you are very curious as to what is going on, and let me assure you that all your questions will be answered shortly. But first, listen to what I say. In the next room are two people very desperate to make your acquaintance. You may say and act towards them as you please, but I must beg you to remember that sometimes appearances can be deceiving."

Harry nodded solemnly.

"And sometimes, the appearance of appearances can also be deceiving."

Suddenly wishing for Hormone to appear and translate, Harry frowned.

"Sir?" he ventured.

"Just remember what I said Harry."

Confused by the mans sudden seriousness – even the twinkle had gone – Harry nodded again.

"Yes sir. But…"

"No buts." Dumbledore held up a hand, and the twinkle returned. "It's through here." He gently pushed open a door opposite to the one that Harry had just come out of from the kitchen – the room, Harry guessed, with the large glass doors.

Still frowning, feeling slightly apprehensive and more than slightly confused, Harry entered. The door shut with a click behind him, Dumbledore and Remus still outside.

Harry squinted against the sunlight pouring in through the glass doors. He could just make out two figures standing in front of them, silhouetted against the sun.

"Hello?" he squinted, beginning to make out the shapes of a man and woman.

The pair moved away from the windows, suddenly realising Harry's problem.

"Hello Harry." the woman said, smiling a little shyly at him. The man next to her seemed devoid of speech – he was simply staring at Harry, his mouth half open in shock.

Harry frowned, scrutinising the adults as his eyes adjusted to the light. The woman had long red hair, pulled back from her face, and wide, smiling green eyes. She was dressed in jeans and a loose t-shirt, and something about the comfort in which she wore them told Harry she was either muggle, or very used to wearing muggle clothes. The man too looked quite at home in canvas trousers and a t-shirt, although his slack jawed amazement somewhat ruined that illusion. His face was somehow familiar – bony cheeks, high forehead, hair…

Harry's insides froze, his own hand subconsciously reaching up to tug at the sticky out bit on the back of his head. The man in front of him mirrored the actions on himself. Drawing his eyes away from the man, Harry examined the woman more critically, seeing her eyes through his own, almost identical ones.

A single conclusion leapt out at him.

"Dad?" he croaked. "Mum?"

The woman's eyes suddenly filled with tears, contradicting the huge smile that had spread across her face.

"Harry." she said softly, and her tone of voice was a confirmation.

"How…?"

"We lost our memories the night Voldemort attacked. Not even Dumbledore can think of how we survived. We had no knowledge of anything before the day after the attack, until yesterday. Remus and Dumbledore found us." the woman spoke quickly, words tumbling out of her mouth.

Harry nodded slowly at the woman – his mother, some part of his mind screamed – and found his mind had gone completely and utterly blank.

"Harry?" Lily Potter ventured after several minutes silence.

He continued to stare blankly at her, eyes not even seeming to take in what they were seeing.

"Harry!" James spoke for the first time, moving out of his wife's grip and coming towards his son. "Harry, listen to me…" he trailed off, placing one hand gently on his sons arm.

The contact seemed to jerk the boy out of whatever daze he was in. He yanked his arm out from under James's, his face clamming over, even the shock fading. Before either of the older Potters could react, Harry had spun round and walked out the room.

Moments later, Dumbledore walked in, looking worried. Neither Lily nor James had moved – both were gazing at the door where Harry had disappeared.

"He just…walked out." said Lily blankly.

Dumbledore bowed his head. "Remus has followed him, just to keep an eye on him. He'll come back when he's ready."

James shook his head. "He didn't even speak. Just stared at us."

"I thought he'd be angry…surprised, maybe." said Lily, taking her husbands hand for comfort. In her eyes, her eldest child, one she had never known and now longed to know so much, had rejected her. Chosen her sister and her pig-like family over parents he hadn't even bothered to get to know.

"Give him time." said Dumbledore.

"He just walked out, Albus!" exclaimed James, trying desperately to stop himself from shouting. "We tried to explain it to him, and he just walked out!"

"And he may well yet walk back in again." Dumbledore said firmly. "I repeat myself. Give him time."

James glared at him, but said no more. The sight of his son had been un-nerving, to say the least – it was like looking in a mirror. Tall, skinny…if it weren't for the eyes, it would have been his 17-year-old self.

HTCHB

Remus watched Harry through worried eyes. He seemed to have no idea of where he was or where he was going – he just kept walking, out of the house, across the road, around the corner...with Remus trying to keep up without being noticed. Not that he though Harry would notice anything right now.

They arrived in a small children's park – early afternoon, even in the summer holidays, meant it was mostly empty, the children and parents returned home for lunch. Harry sat down on the empty swing, half-heartedly pushing himself back and forwards with his foot, eyes staring un-seeing at the ground.

Remus watched him for several minutes, debating whether to approach or not. Deciding he probably wouldn't be much help given the circumstances, Remus began to turn back to fetch Dumbledore when he was hit by a brainwave.

A moment later, he appeared outside the Burrow.

Knocking on the Weasley's door, Remus wondered for a moment what he was going to say.

"Hello Molly, mind if I borrow Ron for a bit? Only Harrys dead parents aren't dead anymore, and he doesn't seem to be taking it to well."

Oh yes, that would go down a storm.

"Remus!" he was pulled out of his thoughts by the afore mentioned woman opening the door and engulfing him.

"How are you dear? We've not seen you for weeks! Come in, I've just started lunch."

Unobtrusively massaging his now severely bruised ribs, Remus stepped over the threshold.

"Actually, Molly, I was looking for Ron."

"Ron? He's outside with Ginny and Hermione. Why do you need…" Molly Weasley's voice trailed off, and she paled. "Harry…oh Merlin, what's he done?"

"Harrys fine." said Remus quickly. "Just…needs someone to talk to."

She nodded understandingly. "Of course. I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, making him go back to that place. To much time to think."

Remus said nothing, simply allowing himself to be led through the Burrow and back outside again.

"They're out here somewhere." Molly said, waving one arm distractedly. "Take him for however long Harry needs. And Hermione to, if you think it will help. I know they've been writing, but that's never quite the same. And make sure you tell him that he can come and stay here as soon as he pleases."

And she disappeared back into the house.

After a few minutes search, Remus found Ron, Hermione and Ginny seated under a gnarled old apple tree. Hermione was flipping through some textbook or another, while Ginny and Ron played gob-stones. Both were glaring at the other, and each was covered in a lovely looking slime like substance. Remus began to regret having to be the one to break them up.

He cleared his that, and Hermione looked up.

"Professor!" she exclaimed.

Both Ginny and Ron jerked round.

"Hello sir!" said Ginny, a slightly puzzled look on her face. "Mums inside, and dads at work…"

"I'm not looking for your parents, Ginny." said Remus quickly. "I was actually hoping to have a word with Ron and Hermione."

Ginny glanced between her friend and her brother, the latter of whom began to make little "shooing" motions with his hands.

"Fine then." she huffed, glaring at Ron as if it were his fault. "I'll just go help mum in the kitchen then."

And she flounced off.

"That wasn't nice Ron." reprimand Hermione, apparently forgetting for a moment Remus's presence.

"It worked though!" he protested, ready for the argument. Sensing its impending arrival, Remus cleared his throat.

"Harry needs you." he said quietly. It sounded corny and melodramatic in his ears, but it had the desired affect. Both Ron and Hermione instantly swivelled round to face him, shock and worry written all over their faces.

"Where?" said Ron at the same time as Hermione gasped "why?"

"He's had some…startling news." said Remus carefully. "And he needs…well, he needs you."

The pair leapt to their feet, wands drawn.

"Where?" repeated Ron grimly; looking about him, half expecting to see his friend locked in a duel amongst his mothers vegetables.

"Grip my arms, both of you." Remus instructed. "I'll take you."

A moment later, the garden was empty, bar a red haired teenager, eyes wide with concern, peering out from behind a bush.

* * *

Well, the start of the meeting anyway! Please please PLEASE recview!!!!!!

Next week…Ron and Hermione knock some sense into Harry, and we find out what Harry was up to all day….

REVIEW!!!


	14. In Which Heads are Banged

And here we go again! A bit of a proper meeting this time!

And also, for those of you who have been asking, finally a bit more of an explanation of what happened to Voldemort.

So it's back to school we go…another 7 weeks 'til Christmas…and yet, it's scary how quick this year is going…November already…my birthday in 20 days! And my Grade 7 piano exam in 10! (Runs and hides)

And my hugs and blessing to those people whos reviews made me come out of hiding…**Mei1105, Len87, Haunted, armygundamgirl, seikinoko, Phantom of a Rose, flower123, ballerinadoll9, GilmoreAholic, duj, Tansiana **and** anonymous (krl25).**

But. I have a bone to pick. Thanks to those lovely things I call "stats", it has come to my attention that this story is on 33 favourites and 39 alerts. SO WHERE ARE YOUR REVIEWS, EVIL PEOPLE?

Ahem. Rant over.

On we go!

* * *

"Over there." Remus pointed out the solitary figure, still sitting despondently on the swing. Hermione frowned, and Ron nodded grimly. 

"See you later." he said shortly, making his way across the park with a quiet determination, Hermione hurrying after him.

Remus watched them go, his heart heavy with hope.

"Hey." Ron said, sliding into the second swing.

Harry glanced up, and did a double take.

"Ron? Hermione?"

"Last I checked." said Ron, attempting cheeriness.

"How did you get here?"

"Professor Lupin came to see us." explained Hermione quietly. "He said you needed us."

"Well he was wrong." snapped Harry. "I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

"Thanks."

Hermione winced at the bitterness in his voice.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry. We're your friends! What's wrong?"

Harry eyed them both for a moment. "Lupin came to see me this morning too." he said at last. "Nice little surprise waiting."

Ron opened his mouth to ask something, but Hermione shushed him with a look.

"My parents."

There was a stunned silence.

"Harry?" ventured Hermione timidly after a moment. "Are you sure? I mean, your parents…well, your parents are dead."

Harry grunted. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

"You sure it was them?" Ron asked, ever the tactile one.

Harry snorted. "Yes. Asked them. And they weren't fakes. Dumbledore was there, and Lupin."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other.

"Harry…" Hermione said carefully. He looked at her without interest.

"What?"

"If your parents are somewhere with Dumbledore…why are you here?"

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "I have no idea," he said bitterly. "Maybe 'cos I just discovered two people I've spent the last 15 years believing to be dead are actually alive and well, and have been all this time?"

"Do you blame them for it?" asked Hermione quietly, beginning to see where this was going.

Harry shrugged awkwardly. "Maybe."

"For Merlin's sake Harry!" cried Ron. "Your parents! Hello! Two people you have wanted to know more than any other? Alive, and probably less than five miles away?!" Overcome with apparent enthusiasm, Ron whacked his friend around the head.

Harry looked stunned.

"He's right." Said Hermione, slightly more gently. Despite the severity of the situation, Ron grinned broadly at the sound of Hermione agreeing with him. "You need to talk to them. Find out why. And how."

"She said something about memory lose." Harry muttered, not quite able to bring himself to call them mum and dad, but somehow unable to think Lily and James.

"There you have it then. They couldn't help it."

"Even so, it's not easy you know!" Harry flared up again.

"I know! But you think it was easy on them? Coming to meet a son they last saw as a baby?" Hermione countered, and Harry visibly deflated.

"No." he admitted after a minute. "I guess not."

Hermione's tone softened. "Go back, Harry. Talk to them, find out the whole story."

Harry gave a strangled grin, and climbed to his feet.

"Yeah. Maybe."

There was a pause.

"Thanks, you two." he added quietly.

Hermione smiled. "Go!" she instructed, shooing him with her hands. Ron grinned at his best friend.

"Good luck, mate." he said, clasping his shoulder affectionately, just for a moment.

Harry nodded and smiled at them both.

"See you." he said, leaving the park.

Hermione breathed out properly for the first time in several minutes, finally showing how shaken she was.

"Wow." whistled Ron. "That's a turn up for the books."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Only you, Ron." she muttered with a grin.

"What?" He looked at her, offended.

"Only you could call some ones return from the dead a turn up for the books. Now come on, we need to find Lupin. I don't have a clue where we are."

HTCHB

Somewhat nervously, Harry pushed open the door he had left through earlier. The kitchen was empty, but there was a soft mummer of voices coming from the next room. Harry crossed the hallway that ran the width of the house, and, after a moments hesitation, gently pushed the door open.

There was instant silence as three pairs of eyes turned to stare at the figure in the doorway.

Dumbledore smiled, and clambered to his fret.

"If you'll excuse me." he said, eyes twinkling. "I must have a word with Isabella."

Harry felt himself blush as Dumbledore left, leaving the three equally red Potters to gaze at each other.

"Umm…sorry…you know…about leaving earlier." Harry muttered at last, deciding anything was better than the staring.

"No, no…" James began at the same that Lily said "Harry…" for the eighth time in the past hour. They both laughed nervously.

"I guess it was a bit of a shock." Lily said quickly, before James could begin again. "I mean…we've been dead, I suppose."

Harry grinned, albeit a little nervously. "Yeah. Not what I expected."

"Did Moony talk to you?" James asked, earning a glare and a poke from his wife.

"No." Harry hesitated, before taking the plunge and daring to elaborate. "He got Ron and Hermione to knock some sense into me. Literally, in Rons case."

He grinned feebly.

"Who are Ron and Hermione?" asked James, seizing a conversation that could consist of more than a few syllables.

"They're my best friends." said Harry quickly. "Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I met them at Hogwarts."

"Weasley." Lily frowned.

"Seventh year prefect when we first went." supplied James. "Arnold."

"Arthur." Harry corrected. "Ron's his youngest son." He grinned wryly. "One of seven."

James whistled. "Six brothers? Ouch."

"Five brothers. One sister, a year younger."

"I see."

"And Hermione?"

"Muggle born. Brightest witch in our year."

James smiled fondly. "Reminds me of someone else." he said, looking at his wife.

"Focus, dear." she said dryly, rolling her eyes. Despite himself, Harry grinned, allowing himself to relax ever so slightly.

"So you'll be in 6th Year now, Harry." Lily continued, determined to get a conversation started properly.

"In September." Harry clarified with a nod.

"You like it there?"

Harry smiled. "Its brilliant." he said with an enthusiasm that needed no expanding on.

"Which house are you in?"

"Gryfinndor."

And so it continued. Stilted question and answers slowly but surely giving way to conversation. It took some getting used to – for Lily and James, having a child out of primary school, never mind having faced the darkest wizard of the age, and for Harry, having two people completely and utterly interested in anything and everything he said, and not because he was the boy-who-lived.

"So," Lily began after a few moments of no longer uncomfortable silence, searching for a subject. They had so far covered exams, Hedwig, a few rather vague details about the Dursleys, although the look on Lilys face had caused that subject to be dropped pretty quickly, and a few even vaguer facts about Hogwarts. From the little Dumbledore and Remus had told them, both Lily and James knew that there was more to it than Harry had so far told them, but no one felt like depressing the relatively happy mood that had filled the room. However, it seemed they had little choice.

Glancing over at her husband, Lily realised that she was on her own in this one. Men, she thought with a roll of her eyes. She suddenly realised both Harry and James were staring at her, and remembered that she had started to speak.

"Harry," she ventured, and he looked at her expectantly. "Remus…er, well, he…I mean…Sirius."

It was amazing the effect one word could have on a person. Or two people, in this case. James's shoulders slumped, his whole body seeming to sag with the remainder of the lack of his best friend. And Harry, who had only moments ago been almost smiling, paled and started examining the carpet.

"Did he tell you about the Ministry?" Harry asked at last, his voice taught.

"Yes." James's voice was quiet and controlled, but it wasn't fooling anyone.

"I miss him." It sounded meaningless and empty, but for some reason Harry felt he had to say it.

James smiled grimly. "Me too. Even when I didn't know who he was."

"I hated him, the first time I met him. Attacked him in the Shrieking Shack."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Bet he loved that."

"Yeah. It was a confusing few minutes; we all kept attacking the wrong people. I attacked Sirius, and then Hermione and Ron tried to stop him from killing me, and then Professor Lupin walked in and we nearly attacked him…although we got it right with Snape, at least." Harry spoke with detached tones, as though telling them of something he had read in the paper.

"Snape?" James straightened up, suddenly alert. "What on earth was he doing there?"

Harry sighed. "He works at Hogwarts. Teaches potions."

"That slimy git got a teaching job?"

"Somehow." Harry nodded with a slight grin.

"I'm sure he must have done something to deserve it." Lily said calmly, although unable to keep the surprise out of her eyes.

"Yeah. Like mind-wiping Dumbledore." muttered James. "What's he like Harry? Still a greasy haired pale faced idiot?"

"Oh yeah. Head of Slytherin now, too."

"Great. That's all we need. A slimly git with an ego inflation."

Lily laughed out loud. "Kettle, pot, black!" She cried, pointing at her husband. "Your not one to talk about egos! Me and Jane once considered hexing the entire Gryfinndor quidditch team, so you wouldn't win the cup again and spend the entire year boasting!"

James looked horrified. "You wouldn't! Slytherin would have won it, and I swore down that that was never going to happen while a Potter played for Gryfinndor!"

He suddenly swung round to face his son.

"Harry," he questioned, sounding rather surprised he hadn't thought to ask earlier. "Do you play quidditch?"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Yes."

James beamed.

"For the House Team?"

"I did." Harry felt a sudden weight descend upon his chest as he remembered, for the first time that day, his ban, and wondered, for the hundredth time that holiday, whether it still counted.

"Did?"

"I got a lifetime band, last term, for fighting."

"Fighting?" James seemed to have been stunned yet again into one-word sentences.

"We'd just won against Slytherin, and their Seeker is a really, really sore loser. So he started having a go at Ron and his brothers about their family, and then at me about my lack of one, and we all sort of flew at him."

James gaped. "But that's a provoked attack! Surly McGonagall wouldn't have banned you for that…I mean, maybe a life times detention, but a ban?!"

"It wasn't McGonagall who banned me."

"But only the head of your house can ban someone…"

"She is still head, isn't she?" put in Lily quickly, half expecting to discover the death of yet another friend.

"Oh yes. But last year the Ministry started interfering at Hogwarts, placing this evil woman, Umbridge, as a High Inquisitor, and they kept giving her all sorts of stupid powers, like closing down clubs and banning quidditch."

James had paled, his mouth opening and closing like a gold fish. The thought of there being a body with the power to ban someone from quidditch seemed to have shocked him to the core.

"Why on earth would the Ministry do that?" gaped Lily. "Dumbledore's quite capable of looking after Hogwarts himself, why does the Ministry need to interfere?"

"'Cos of what Dumbledore was trying to say."

"Which was…"

"That Voldemort was back."

Lily shivered. It seemed that every conversation they had was destined to eventually return to some dark fact.

"And they didn't believe him?" James sounded incredulous.

Harry shrugged. "Course not. Fudge is an idiot, and decided Dumbledore just wanted to scare the world into voting him new Minister of Magic. So Umbridge was sent to Hogwarts to keep an eye on things. Mainly me and Dumbledore."

"You?"

"It was me who saw Voldemort come back. I told Dumbledore, and everyone else. I was the root of the problem."

Both Lily and James gasped. "You've seen Voldemort? Met him?" cried Lily, aghast.

"Four times." said Harry grimly. "In various shapes and forms."

"When, where, how and why?" James demanded.

"First year, possessed our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Tried to steal the Philosophers Stone, but me and Ron and Hermione went after him. We didn't realise it was Voldemort until to late – we thought it was Snape. Second year, Ron's sister accidentally wrote the 16 year old shadow of him that was somehow trapped in a diary. Eventually, he had drained so much of Ginny that she was nearly dead, and he took her into the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione had been petrified by a basilisk, so me and Ron went after her and met his sort of ghost. Fourth year, one of his Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts using a polyjuice potion to look like Mad-Eye Moody, another DADA teacher. He bewitched the Triwizard Tournament so that there would be four competitors – I was the fourth. In the final round, the cup was a portkey to a graveyard. That's where he regained his body. And fifth year, he tricked me into going to the Department of Mysteries. Except he then tried to possess me, in the hope that Dumbledore would kill me with the intention of killing him, and for some reason that tore him from his body again."

Lily and James stared, open-mouthed.

"Who's for a quiet life, eh?" James said weakly, still looking stunned.

"Why's he after you, Harry?" asked Lily, glaring at her husband. "What's so special about you?"

With a tight smile, Harry pulled up his fringe.

"This. It's where Voldemort marked me as his equal, according to the prophecy."

"So it was true then?"

Harry nodded with a quick shrug. He was still trying to come to terms with exactly what the prophecy had in store for him, and it wasn't something he particularly felt like discussing.

James' eyes had widened in horror. He remembered Dumbledore telling them about the prophesy, when Harry had been a few months old. He and Lily had been horrified when Dumbledore had explained to them what it meant, but as time had passed it had gone to the back of theirs minds. James hadn't thought about it for many months, even before the night of the attack, but now he tried to remember its contents.

"It's you, then." said Lily slowly. "You're the only one who can destroy Voldemort? Your certain about it?"

Harry nodded. "He hunted me out and marked me as his equal." he said. "Until I was eleven, I had no idea that the wizarding world even existed. Then Hagrid turned up, and told me everything. It was really weird – practically every person in the wizarding world knew who I was, what I had done, and I thought my parents had died in a car crash." Harry gave a sort of strangled grin.

"And, the ending of it…" said James, watching his sons face. Harry nodded.

"I know. Or, I don't know. I know what it says…but I dunno yet what it means."

Suddenly sick of the sombre atmosphere that had settled over the three of them, Harry cast about for another subject, and was hit by a sudden though.

"Erm…do I…I mean…you two…more children?" The sentence seemed to scramble up, somewhere between his brain and his throat, but his parents nodded with understanding.

"Yes." confirmed Lily, smiling inwardly at Harrys red cheeks. "Two girls, Jane and Gemma, and another boy, Jack."

"Oh." Harry said, unsure of what to say. Then: "I've never had brothers or sisters before."

He mentally kicked himself at the stupidity of the sentence.

Lily smiled. "Well, they've never had an older brother before, so it'll be a new experience for you all."

Harry suddenly felt a warm glow settle about his chest as he tried to picture what his siblings could look like. Maybe he could meet them…well, of course he could. They'd probably be living in the same house at some point. Hopefully. He'd have to ask. Or maybe they'd ask him…Or maybe they ought to get to know each other a bit better first…either way…it was going to be a most interesting few days…

* * *

Next chapter…Ginny confronts Ron and Hermione, Lily plots, and petunia drops plates… 

REVIEW, EVIL NON-REVIEWERS!!!! (And lovely do-reviewers as well, of course!)

Until next time!


	15. In Which Plates are Dropped

I really have no excuse. I give my most heart felt apologies…aside from the fact that I desperately wanted this chapter proofread, 'cos I was convinced bits of it didn't make sense, then I can only offer my Grade Seven piano exam tomorrow as a reason…hope the slightly longer length (does that make sense?) makes up for it…

RSSA: Random Shameless Self-Advertising… Once upon a time there lived two sisters. And one day, they heard a song that reminded them of a certain blonde Slytherin. And then they heard another, that remained them of a certain boot-wearing Herbology Professor…and then more and more, until the pair were drowning under songs that reminded them of these much loved tales…And so the pair doth set forth to retell the tales of a young boy, in song form!

The moral of this tale? Click upon my author name, scroll down, and indulge in some musical madness by clicking first on Harry Potter: The Musical (Philosophers Stone), and then upon Harry Potter: The Phantom Musical (Chamber of Secrets.)

Sorry about that. But please go take a look!

And the people whose reviews were more than a pleasure to look at, and so receive my undying love, were **Haunted, flower123, ballerinadoll9, caz-felton-malfoy, Len87, eskaybe1, TacoMan, Orion in the Sky, Mei1105, dingohart, armygundamgirl, magicalmoments, seikinoko, GilmoreAholic, Meg-z Peg-z, duj, krl25 **and**Tansiana**

And yey!!!! I hit 100 reviews! Just a note…I am now taking 14 off my review count…so, at time of typing, I'm actually on 101 reviews, not 115. This is due to the fact I was hit by the serial flamer, "I am the Cure", who likes to go round and randomly flame stories with pointless jargon, seemingly without actually reading the story first.

So look out!!!!

Dedicated to Tansiana, my 100th reviewer!

* * *

They stayed in the sitting room for several hours. At some point, Harry was vaguely aware of the woman he didn't know coming in and handing them all a plate of something, but his attention did not even go so far as to register what he was eating. For that afternoon, nothing existed outside that one room.

It was only when Dumbledore tapped softly on the door, and asked politely if they would join them for dinner, to save Mrs Jenkins from convincing herself that they would die of starvation, that Harry realised he'd been there for nearly 6 hours. Feeling slightly dazed, he followed his parents and Dumbledore back through to the kitchen, where Remus was seated at a large wooden table. The same woman who had bought them lunch was bustling about, laying out plates and stirring pots of food, seemingly all at the same time.

"Sit!" she cried, upon seeing them enter. "Sit! It's all ready, sit and ye shall be served!"

Obediently, all four sat, Harry frowning slightly at the woman, who was reminding him of someone he could not quite place.

"Mrs Jenkins is Arabella Figg's sister, Harry." Remus explained in an undertone as the teenager slipped in next to him.

Harry nodded, suddenly seeing the likeness.

"Thanks." He said after a moment. "For earlier, I mean."

"Any time."

The meal too passed in a seemingly timeless manner – Harry hardly felt like he'd eaten his first bite when Mrs Jenkins began swooping around, clearing dishes and cleaning up. And then, equally suddenly, they were all gathered once more in the sitting room. The five adults talking now, Harry sitting amongst them and simply watching and listening, feeling happier and safer than he had in a long time.

All good things, however, must end, and eventually even Mrs Jenkins coffee couldn't stop the yawns. James clasped his son's shoulder rather awkwardly, while Lily, who had no such inhibitions, threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. Harry stiffened in surprise for a moment, before relaxing, and somewhat hesitantly returning the hug.

Remus was about to grip Harrys arm to take him back to the Dursleys when Lily spoke.

"Harry," she began, somewhat nervously, "we were wondering…we'd love it if you came to our house tomorrow. You could met Jane, and Gemma, and Jack, and…" She trailed off somewhat nervously.

A grin crept across Harrys face. "I'd love to."

"Should I…" Remus began to offer his services as a taxi once more, but Lily shook her head.

"No. I need a word with my sister. I'll go to Privet Drive tomorrow." Then, struck by a sudden thought, "She does still live at Privet Drive, doesn't she?"

Harry laughed. "Yes."

The last thing the Potters saw before Remus gripped Harrys arm and the pair disappeared, was their sons face, lit up with a grin broad enough to stretch across the Thames. 

HTCHB

Several hundred miles and a few hours away… 

Ginny paced impatiently about the garden, stalking from overgrown flowerbed to the hen house and back again. It had been hours. And they _still_ weren't back…what on earth was going on? In actual fact, it hadn't been more than half an hour, but it felt like hours, and that was what was important.

Grunting with displeasure, she swung a fist at the nearest bush, only to be rewarded with a nettle sting, and the scolding of a highly irate chicken, who had been hiding out under the branches.

Where were they?

She should have insisted she stayed, insisted she listened. Professor Lupin wouldn't have minded, she was certain. But oh no, just 'cos she was a _girl, _and she was _younger_…Hadn't she gone to the Ministry too? Hadn't she helped fight? But of course, that didn't count. She'd been possessed once – just _once_! – and now they all treated her like she was three years old.

And Hermione was a girl! And she still got to go. Still got to know everything that was going on, still got to follow Him into every ridiculous situation. But she was _Ginny, _so she had to stay behind and play nice with some stupid French floozy.

Ginny was in the middle of having a very nice time feeling completely and utterly sorry for herself when she heard it. The definite "pop" of someone apparating.

Spinning on her heel, all thoughts of anger gone, Ginny followed the sound, rounding the house just in time to see her old Professor disappeared. Ron and Hermione were standing in front of the house, both looking pale, and ever so slightly sick.

"Well?" Ginny marched up to them, arms folded, unknowingly taking on her mothers' favourite pose.

Hermione looked at her friend, trying desperately to ignore the fact that her stomach seemed to be travelling a good five minutes behind the rest of her.

"Harry's fine, Gin." She said quietly, hoping it would be enough and knowing it wasn't.

"Yeah right. Why did Lupin come for you then?"

"None of your business." Ron had recovered enough by now to glare at his sister.

A mistake, as it turned out.

"All of my business! I care about Harry just as much as you two! What happened?" Ginny reached for her wand, carried by habit even when she couldn't use it.

Ron snorted. "Holidays, Gin. Bat Bogeys won't work, unless you want to be dragged up to the Ministry."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "I don't need magic to do what I was planning to do with this." She threatened, her voice quiet and somehow three times as menacing.

Ron paled.

"Oh for Merlins sake." Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes. She grabbed Ginny with one hand and Ron with the other, dragging them both out of sight of the front of the house.

"Hey!" Ron yelped, caught unawares.

"Shush!" Hermione continued to drag the siblings down the garden, finally stopping once more underneath the apple tree.

"What was that for?" Ron glared, rubbing his arm.

"To stop your mum seeing us. We've not been given permission to tell anyone else yet."

"Tell anyone else what?" Ginny demanded.

"None of –" Ron began, but Hermione cut through him.

"About Harrys parents."

"I thought you just said we shouldn't tell anyone?"

"Ginny's not anyone."

"Thank you!"

Ron glared at both girls, displeasure written all over his face.

"So we don't tell mum?"

"No!" Hermione snapped impatiently.

"But we tell Ginny?"

"Yes!"

"Tell me!" Ginny's voice, loudly insistent, broke through the argument.

"You can't tell anyone." Hermione warned. "No one. Not yet."

"Fine."

"And you won't believe us anyway." Ron interjected.

"Try me."

Hermione sighed. "Harrys parents are alive."

"Yeah right."

"Yeah. Right."

HTCHB

The following morning, Harry woke having slept better than he had for weeks. The house seemed empty, which wasn't unusual. His uncle would be at work, his aunt was probably out shopping, and Dudley would be terrorising some poor neighbourhood child. So he was alone. Which was just the way he liked it.

He was actually dressed and halfway down stairs when the previous days events actually hit full on. He stopped suddenly, one foot frozen in midair. Remus…Ron and Hermione…Parents!

Harry jerked upright with shock, and then yelped as he remembered he was halfway down the stairs, and proceeded to topple the rest of the way. He lay at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his brain to catch up with the rest of him. Then, with an experience born of far to many falls from a flying broomstick, he carefully moved each limb before climbing gingerly to his feet. There was nothing worse than springing instantly upright, only to topple down again after you realised your legs were no longer able to bear any weight.

So it was some moments before Harry realised he was not quite as alone as he had previously thought. Replacing his glasses, which had somehow miraculously survived the fall, Harry noticed for the first time his aunt, standing in the kitchen doorway. She looked even paler than usual, her eyes shadowed as though she had not slept well.

"You got back late last night." she said, by way of a greeting. But her voice wasn't accusing, or cross. If he hadn't known better, Harry might of said it was curious.

"Yes." he said, frowning slightly. But any confusion he had felt so far was tripled, quadrupled and blown totally out of the way by his aunts next question.

"Did you have a nice time?"

Harry gaped at her, his mouth half open. Never, not once in 15 years, had his aunt ever, ever asked him if he'd have a nice time.

"Erm. Yes." he replied slowly, warily waiting to find out what she wanted.

Which, it turned out, were answers to more questions.

"The man who picked you," Petunia's voice was wary, "Who was he?"

"He used to be a teacher," said Harry blankly. Then, because he was feeling daring, "at Hogwarts."

And then he knew, once and for all, that something was really and truly up. Instead of shrieking, or shouting, or even gasping at the mention of anything to do with Harrys "abnormalities", Petunia simply shook her head distractedly.

"No. No! I mean, _who_ is he? As in his name?" The man had told her yesterday, she was certain, but she needed to hear it again anyway, just in case. Just to be certain.

"Oh. Remus Lupin."

Not even 5 years of magical schooling had prepared Harry for what happened next. Petunia paled further, her face now paper white. She swayed slightly, catching herself on the kitchen doorway.

"And…why was he here?" she whispered at last

"To pick me up?" offered Harry after a moments thought.

"Why?"

"He was taking me to…meet someone." Harry said, choosing his words carefully. They had moved into the kitchen, Petunia returning to her previous chore of un-stacking the dishwasher, Harry heading for the bread and the toaster.

"Meet who?" Petunia asked curiously over her shoulder, picking up a pile of plates.

Harry hesitated. To tell or not to tell? The problem was trying to predict his aunts' reaction. His uncle would scoff and shout, Dudley would laugh and tease him for daydreaming…but his aunt was a bit more of an enigma. Of them all, she was the one he knew least, mainly, he suspected, because there was more to her than to either his uncle or his cousin.

"Me." A voice from the doorway behind them answered in Harrys place. Harry turned in shook to see his mother, grim faced, standing there.

"Good morning Harry." She said with a quick smile, before her attention returned to her sister's back. Petunia had frozen, a pile of plates still her hands. She turned slowly, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Lily?" She whispered hoarsely, voice trembling.

"Hello Petunia."

Petunia dropped the plates.

* * *

Hehe, broken china!!!! Next chapter…sparks fly…a lot of sparks…a lot of flying… 


	16. In Which Sisters Meet

Greetings! Chapter 16, as promised!

I must admit, I really, really enjoyed writing this chapter…there's hardly any description, it's nearly all dialogue, so apologies if you don't like that sort of thing, but too much speech would have ruined the flow.

The people whose reviews certainly aided the flow of my writing, and thus gained my eternal gratitude, were…**dingohart, Cat in a box, ballerinadoll9, Bethy Ann, flower123, Len87, krl25, armygundamgirl, Mei1105, seikinoko **annnnd** Haunted.**

This is a call out to **rainingflowers**, who appears to have either disappeared of the face of the Earth, evaporated, gone on holiday, lost the internet connection or become so disgusted with this tale that she's left it in disgust! If you're still alive, let me know!

And I have a completion for you all! Within this chapter are a couple of lines from a song. It is a song from a musical, and you will receive a chapter dedication if you can find the lyrics, and tell me which song they're from. Bonus points if you also get the musical! So get cracking!

In other news…not a lot. Enjoy!

* * *

"No." Petunias voice was quiet, insistent, as though sheer will could make it all become not true.

"For gods sake, Petunia." Lily cried, pulling out her wand and waving it in the air. The plates flew off the floor, re-forming in mid-air, and coming to rest on the kitchen table.

"You're not there. You're a hallucination. Or a spell." Petunia spun round suddenly to face Harry. "You're putting a spell on me!" she accused him, eyes wild.

"Don't be ridicules." Lily snapped, drawing her sisters attention again. "I'm as real as you are."

As if to prove it, she stalked over to her sister and seized her arm.

"See? Flesh and bone."

"But you died." Petunias tone was small, and slightly lost – something Harry had never heard in his collected, stern aunt before.

"Evidently not."

"But…but you did."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Petunia, I didn't. End of story."

Disbelief, shock, even a trace of something Harry might have called joy if he didn't know better, all flickered across Petunias face, before finally settling on seething anger.

"So you didn't die?" she spoke slowly, eyes narrowed.

"No."

"You just vanished. Disappeared without a trace. Dumped your freak of a son on us, and gallivanted off!"

"You dare speak about Harry like that again, and I swear I'll hex you into the next century!" Lily roared, eyes flashing with sudden anger. "You think we had any choice? Think we wanted to go? We lost our memories, Petunia. Until yesterday, we had no idea about anything before that night! Who we were, who we'd been, people we'd known and loved! All gone! Do you really believe I'd have left my son to be raised by you if I had a say in the matter?"

"But you were killed!" Petunia spat, still grappling with the basics. "That man said in the letter when he dropped Harry off. He said you were dead. And I believed him! I even rang a few of mum's old friends, so they'd stop sending me things for you! I took in your son, when he had no where else…"

"You didn't take him in! You allowed him a place to sleep and a meal, if he was on time!"

"Which was more than anyone else was willing to do!"

Harry tried to make himself as small as possible, stuck as he was between the two raging sisters. It was hard to believe that not 5 minutes previously, the house had been silent except for his aunt's questioning.

"There was no one else!"

"Vernon wanted to send him to an orphanage, but I wouldn't let him. Some sort of strange final duty I felt towards you, though heaven knows why! Thanks to me, he's had a house and food and clothes for the past 15 years!"

"He'd have been better off in an orphanage!"

"Oh yes? You always were the romantic one, reading all those books about wonderful adventures in boarding schools and orphanages, but that doesn't mean it's true in real life!"

"Hell would have been better than here."

"I did what I saw fit! What was I meant to do, welcome him with open arms? I'd said my goodbyes to you twice before, and the second time I meant it. I wasn't getting involved in all that again. A house was what he needed, a house was what he got."

"He needed a home, Petunia, not a house."

"And he was welcome to one, just so long as it wasn't here."

"I thought I had the measure of you, Petunia Dursley. I thought I knew how low you could actually sink before stopping. If someone had told me 30 years ago that you'd one day turn into this, I'd never have believed them. Unfeeling, uncaring about anyone apart from your fat git of a husband and the pig you call a son! I wouldn't be surprised that you'd have been glad that I died, if it weren't for having the inconvenience of an innocent baby 'foisted' upon you!"

"I went to your funeral!" Petunia thundered. "I mourned you! I left Dudley with Vernon's sister, and I took the boy to your funeral. Only right, after all, I thought, that he should get a chance to say goodbye to his parents. And they were all there. All those people from your wedding. People who had known you so much better than I had, when once we'd been as close as two people can be! At your wedding, it made me promise myself to try and regain some lost ground. Next thing I knew, I was at your funeral, and all the second chances were gone!"

"We shouldn't have needed second chances. I never went anywhere. I came back every holiday. I had so much I wanted to tell you about! I used to store up the stories throughout the term, polish them off ready to tell you when I got home. But you were never interested."

"You didn't need to go anywhere, Lily, you just changed, right in front of my eyes. I used to be so proud of you, did you know that? I told everyone about you, the year before you were meant to come to high school. Boasting on and on to friends and teachers about my amazing little sister, and how they'd all meet you in September. But then you waltzed off to that place without so much as a backwards glance, and everyone kept asking me why you hadn't come to Summers High. So I told them. Told them you'd found out you were a witch, and had to go to a special school to learn magic. 5 years of teasing and taunting after that, everyone saying I was a liar, making up tales about an imaginary sister."

"You never told me." Lilys voice was quieter, but the underlying edge was still there.

"As if you'd have wanted to know."

"But I would! I wrote to you, every week, often more! And you hardly ever replied!"

Petunia smiled for the first time, although it was a strained, joy-less smile. "I remember. I got hundreds of letters going on about some annoying idiot for your first three years. And then, just one, years later. You'd just come back from you're first date with him. And I missed out on all the in-between."

"Well maybe if you'd shown a bit of interest, I'd have told you more!"

"Interest in what? Something I couldn't even begin to understand?"

"That never mattered before! You were always there, before even mum, ready to listen and sort me out! You stuck up for me against anything, you were always there, ready and waiting when I needed you, even when you didn't fully know why."

"So? Lily, no one in your life is with you constantly. No one is completely on your side!"

"But you used to be."

"I grew up, Lily. So did you. We drifted apart. It happens." Petunia spoke warily, sinking down into a chair.

Lily snorted. "Petunia, we did more than drift. Remember that summer when you wouldn't even stay in the same room as me? That was way beyond drifting."

"Yeah. Maybe."

Lily smiled sadly, taking the chair opposite her sister.

"Do you remember those arguments we had when we were little? Like the one where you took the last chocolate yoghurt, and I'd been saving it for my Friday lunchbox?"

"Course I do. I've still got the scars to prove it."

There was a silence, both sisters having blown out of steam, for now. Petunia, at least, had years more of hurt and anger to unload, and although Lily couldn't quite remember any of it just yet, she was sure there was more.

"Did you really go to my funeral?" She asked suddenly, remembering her sisters words.

"Yeah. Needed to."

"What was it like?"

Petunia thought for a moment. "Nice." she said at last. "All these people going on about how great you were, how clever and talented. Except it wasn't just the usual 'oh we must be nice 'cos she's dead' sort of thing. They actually meant it."

"Did anyone see you?"

"No! I wasn't having a repeat of the wedding. I went to see, not to be seen. Took Harry in Dudley's pram, and put the hood up, just in-case anyone recognised him."

Lily glanced over to where she had last seen her son. The spot was empty.

"He's gone up to his room." Petunia said, without turning round.

"How'd you know?"

"It's above the kitchen. There's a board ht creaks if you don't know to avoid it."

"Oh."

Another silence, longer this time. An un-easy stalemate had been reached, for the time being at least, and neither witch nor muggle wanted to be the one to break it.

"He's just like you, you know." said Petunia at last.

"How'd you mean?"

"Stubborn."

"Oh, thanks." Lily rolled her eyes.

"No, I mean it. Naive too, in some ways. Reckons everything will turn out all right in the end, if you just believe in it hard enough. A bit of good in everyone."

"How do you know that?"

"Cos he's just like his mother."

Lily snorted again. "Yeah, but I learnt better. The worlds a cruel place, and most of it's out to get you."

Petunia looked at her oddly. "What makes you say that?"

"I've spent the last 15 years with absolutely no knowledge of anything before the age of 21. Yesterday, I discovered, wahoo, I did exist after all. And then I found out that of my friends, 2 were dead, one had disappeared without a trace, one had turned into a murdering traitor and the other has spent the last 15 years alone, and blaming himself for everything! Oh, and my eldest son has been raised by my idiot of a sister and her git of a husband. Go figure!"

Petunia glared. "I told you, Lily, we did what we saw fit…"

"Yes, yes, you've said." Lily waved a hand impatiently. "I'll never understand you, Petunia. Once upon a time you'd have died for me, I know you would. And then you hated me. And then you began to like me again. And then you hated me. But not enough to not care about my death, not enough to miss my funeral. Your head must be an interesting place to live."

Petunia smiled slightly. She had forgotten her sister's odd way of laying out her thoughts, and however much she tried to deny it, it was somewhat refreshing to hear it again.

"I already told you. You were changing, and going somewhere I couldn't follow you. So I guess I stopped trying."

"But what changed that?" Lily was frowning, trying desperately to keep her emotions under check. She was beginning to get answers to the questions she'd had since starting Hogwarts, and she didn't want to ruin it now.

"I told you that too."

Lily raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Letters. You said yourself, you wrote to me at least once a week for your first three years."

"And you hardly ever replied, and when you did it was never in more than 5 sentences."

"So you stopped writing."

"I know! I was there to! What's that got to do with it?"

"Everything. Four years, and I knew nothing of what was going on. I hated you, but that never stopped me reading the letters. I pretended they were a book. I didn't have a clue of what you were going on about – spells, and brooms, and quidditch, so I ignored those bits, and just read the bits about the people. You always could make me laugh, even when I pretended you didn't exist."

Lily gaped at her sister.

"So why on earth didn't you write to me about them?"

Petunia sniffed. "Because I am as proud as you are, although you never seemed to realise it. I'd made it clear I wanted nothing to do with you, and that was the way it was staying."

"Except it wasn't. Or it didn't."

"Nope. You stopped writing after third year, remember? It was like I'd lost my favourite book half way through, without knowing what was going to happen to the characters."

"And who's fault was that? If you'd written back, I'd have kept writing! I had to much else to do to waste my time writing letters that no one seemed to read!" Lily's temper, ever near the surface, got the better of her.

"Evidently. So I put myself to the task of hating you, your friends, and everything you all stood for."

"How nice of you."

"Shut up for a moment and listen. Anyway, I managed the hating thing quite nicely for four years, and then you had to go and write to me again. I'm not sure why – I think mum probably put you up to it, but in it you started going on about how nervous you were. It was the day before your first date with the Potter kid."

"I remember. Mum had written to me, saying you were depressed and missing me."

"I thought as much."

"You wrote back, though. For the first time in years."

"I did, didn't I?" Petunia seemed to marvel at the thought, even after nearly 30 years.

"Well, sort of. I'm not sure if 'how'd it go' quite constitutes a letter."

"I was being aloof!"

"Right. But that was what started it? Me ranting about James? That was all it needed for you to talk to me again?"

"Well, it was a start. Then the wedding, and everything, and they were all so nice…Made me see you were slightly human, at least."

Lily shook her head. "I can't believe I never worked all this out. I spent years trying to figure out why you hated me, then years trying to figure out what changed your mind."

Petunia arched one eyebrow. "For someone who prided herself on her observational skills, you could be awfully blind at times."

"Maybe. Not so awfully blind all the time, though."

"Just most of it."

"Not when mum died."

Instantly, the almost friendly atmosphere that had begun to creep into the room vanished. Petunias lips thinned, her eyes narrowed, and her neck seemed to double in length.

"Can you blame me?" she asked haughtily.

"Yes." Lily looked surprised at the question. "You blamed me."

"You as good as killed your own mother!"

"I bloody didn't!"

"Those people wouldn't have come after her if it wasn't for you!"

"I KNOW!"

A deadly silence fell.

And kept on falling.

Until it hit the floor.

With the sound of both Lily and Petunias heavy breathing.

"My mother had just died, Petunia. I had a nine-month-old baby who'd practically had a death sentence placed on him from the moment he was born, one of my best friends had just disappeared without a trace, my mother had just been killed, and to cap it all, you decided to tell the world that it was my fault!"

"If it wasn't for you and your freakish ways, those people would never have come for her! She'd probably still be here today if it weren't for you."

"You think I don't know that? A hundred times, for months afterwards, I kept thinking of what I could have done differently. Whether I ought to have forced them to get better security, maybe even made her come and stay with me and James for a while. I knew they were in danger! Voldemorts minions were attacking families left right and centre, no distinction between muggle and wizard, and me and James were already pissing him off."

"So you should have left!"

Lily gaped at her sister. "Left?" she said, trying the word out in her mouth. "What do you mean, left?"

"Left that world. Thrown away your wand, or whatever. Left the war."

"Left my friends? My home? My job? My husband? My child? My family?"

"We would have been your family." Said Petunia, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You could have come back to us, back to how things were, before it was to late."

"Could I?" Lily was looking directly into her sister's eyes, challenging her to answer. "You once claimed to know me better than anyone. Could I have left?"

Petunia regarded her sister carefully for a moment.

"No." she sighed at last. "No, you couldn't."

"I nearly did." Lily admitted quietly after a moment's silence. "When mum died, and you told me I'd killed her, and everything…I nearly left everything. But I couldn't. It would have been another kind of death, but death all the same, and I couldn't do it. Jane did – we thought she'd been taken by Death Eaters at first, but her flat was totally cleared out, like she'd moved away. And none of our spies knew anything of her. She'd just upped and left."

Petunia frowned, a carefree, laughing face surfacing somewhere in her memory.

"Tall." she said, concentrating. "Brown hair. Happy."

"Mental, more like." corrected Lily with an affectionate smile. "But yeah, that's her."

"But…she seemed so happy! At the wedding, I mean. She talked to everyone."

"Yeah, that was Jane. Everyone's best friend."

"So what happened to her?" Petunia asked, unable to sedate her curiosity.

"I don't know. We'd had a tough Christmas – lots of attacks, too many deaths. Jane's brother was killed, and I think it just all got too much. She always felt things to deeply."

"But what about you lot? Her friends? Her partner?"

Lily shrugged. "I don't know. And Jane didn't have partner."

"That man she was dancing with at the wedding. The best man."

"Sirius?" Lily said incredulously. "Oh lord no. She and Sirius never went out – too similar. They were like brother and sister." She laughed at the picture her sister had conjured.

The pair sat in silence for a while, each struggling to sort out the wealth of information placed upon them that morning.

"Lily?" Petunia said hesitantly, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

The words were said quietly, without double meaning or sneer, and Lily felt a warm flush of relief spread over her body.

"Me too." She said, and the silence returned, neither sister realising they had just echoed, almost word for word, the same sentiments they had said many, many years before, on the night of Lilys wedding.

It wasn't enough, of course, just as the same exchange had not been enough all those years before. There was still much to be said, much to be shouted, much to be accused of. Years of discontent, anger and hurt lay brewing in each sister, but the lid had been taken off, and the overflow dealt with. The closeness they'd shared as children was gone forever, lost in two totally separate lives, but maybe some form of twisted, broken friendship could be re-kindled.

Maybe.

* * *

Maybe indeed!!!!! Did you spot the song????

Next week….Harry meets the family!


	17. In Which we Meet the Family

Hola all! I speak of you on my first day of being 17!!! Happy birthday to me!!!

And the people who made by birthday particularly happy by reviewing were **Tansiana, Mei1105, Lady Potter of Tortall, padfoot'smoon, Orion in the Sky, Persephone of Peridot, HeyLookTheSnitch, polyhymnictal, Kylara Kitsune, Meg-z Peg-z, Merlin38, ballerinadoll9, krl25, Len87, seikinoko, Darkingfire, xyvortex**, **flower123 **and** armygundamgirl**! Phew! A lot of people! And I love you all!

Sorry for the lateness – I tried to update yesterday, but the document manager wasn't working. Darn!

Congratulations to all who had a go at last weeks competition…the correct answer was Petunias line _"No one in your life is with you constantly. No one is completely on your side_", which are two lines from **I Know Him So Well**, from the Musical Chess.

Dedicated to Kylara Kitsune and Len87 for getting full marks on the competition, and a commended for polyhymnictal, who found the dodgy Steps re-mix. If you think you got the answer too, and I missed you, remind me, and I'll re-dedicate!

And on we go again!

* * *

Harry looked up at the tap open his door. Lily – he still couldn't quite bring himself to think of her as mum – was standing nervously in the doorway. 

"Hi." Harry smiled at her, and tried to pretend he hadn't just heard a good two thirds of the argument raging below him.

Lily looked around, examining her son's bedroom with a critical eye. An open trunk stood at the end of the bed, various robes spilling out onto the floor. Textbooks and parchment littered the desk, surrounding an empty owl cage. A book lay open on the bedside table, showing a moving picture of several orange clad witches and wizards zooming about on broomsticks. Underneath that lay a closed, leather bound book, and, propped up against the bedside lamp, was a photograph that Lily hadn't seen for 15 years.

"Where did you get this?" she asked quietly, picking it up and studying it with a smile.

"Hagrid, at the end of my first year. He gave me this." Harry leaned over and pulled the leather bound book out, handing it to her.

Lily took it, sitting down on the edge of the bed and opening the cover. Waving up at her, smiles plastered all over their faces, were she and James. Flicking through the pages, she saw herself again and again, in various situations and with various people, but almost always with James.

"How on earth did Hagrid get hold of these?" she asked in wonder, looking at a picture taken in the Three Broomsticks one Hogsmeade weekend.

"He said he wrote to loads of your old school friends, asking them for photos."

Lily nodded absently, turning another page and laughing out loud.

"What?" Harry perched next to his mother and peered over her shoulder.

The picture she was laughing at had obviously been taken at some Christmas or another. Seven faces were crowded into the shot, three women, four men, paper hats askew, each one clutching a small wooden figure in one hand.

"It was Christmas, about two years after we'd left Hogwarts." said Lily, still smiling. "We all used to get together on Boxing Day, have a second Christmas."

"Who are they?" asked Harry, pointing to the two other women. "They're in lots of the photos, but I never asked anyone who they were."

"They were my best friends at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, saying no more. From experience at what had happened to his fathers best friends, he had a feeling he didn't want to know what had happened to his mothers.

"Anyway. Shall we go?" Lily got to her feet, smiling at her son. Harry nodded, leaving the album lying on the bed and heading for the door.

"Don't bother." Lily said, reaching out one hand. Harry frowned for a moment, before remembering what Remus had done the day before, and offering her his wrist to grip.

A moment later, and they were in a narrow country lane. Harry looked about curiously – his mother had seen his territory, now it was time for him to get a look at hers.

Not that there was that much to see. The hedges were over grown, blocking any view of the surrounding fields, and they twisted in such a way that the road could only been seen a few meters in either direction.

"This way."

Despite the fact that one direction looked exactly the same as the other, Lily seemed to know exactly where they were, for she started heading up the road without hesitation, pausing only to turn up an even narrower, bumpier lane a few yards up.

"I meant to get us a bit closer." she said as Harry caught up. "But I'm still getting used to the whole using magic thing as it is, and taking extras makes aiming difficult. Could have been worse though."

Harry looked at her, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"When we were doing our test, Sirius managed to end up somewhere in the North Sea."

"In?"

"Yeah." Lily sighed painfully, with the air of one who has suffered many hardships in the name of Sirius. "He was meant to end up by some pond in Hogsmeade, and he got a bit…carried away."

Harry luahged. "What happened?"

"Oh, he made it back. Managed to get it right the second time, re-appeared right on target. Soaking wet and shivering, mind, but in one piece."

"Could have been worse, I suppose." Harry mused, remembering vaguely a conversation at the Weasley's from several summers previous.

They rounded yet another corner – Harry was begging to think they had travelled in a full circle – and the narrow lane suddenly widened into a neat, cobbled courtyard. A radio was playing somewhere nearby, some bird of prey was hanging effortlessly in the air miles above their heads, and the two houses nestled peacefully together.

And suddenly, Harry wanted to run.

He wasn't sure where the feeling came from, or even why it came, for that matter, but one moment he was standing there, taking in the place he would one day call home with an appraising eye, and the next he was wishing he was a thousand miles away.

It was so…peaceful. Like a fairy tale, the place where the characters lived happily ever after. And here was he, Harry J Potter, no longer orphaned but still so many other things. Mainly top of a Dark Wizards hit list. At Privet drive it didn't matter – he was protected there, according to Dumbledore, and if anything were to happen to the Durselys, well…what goes around comes around. Hogwarts was safe, because Dumbledore was there, and the Burrow…the Burrow was untouchable, ever lasting. Harry half thought that he could use a time turner to go 100 years into the future, and no matter what state the rest of the world was in, the Burrow would still be there, complete with Mrs Weasley and her kitchen.

But this place. The midday sun was beating down, making Harry feel stifled as it reflected off the white walls of the houses, making the whole place seem out of focus, fragile to the slightest disturbance. And what better disturbance than he? In his minds eye, Harry could almost see the flames, licking away at base of the houses; hear the screams, the shrieks of pain…and the almighty splash of water?

Jerked back into awareness, Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, but the screams did not fade. They carried over the air from behind one of the houses, punctuated by shrieks and splashes and one very disgusted voice crying "Ja-ack!!!"

Glancing worriedly at his mother, his previous thoughts still not completely dispelled, he was surprised to see a smile.

"There's a small river running through one end of the garden." Lily Potter explained to her confused son. "In the heat…well, it's a good way to cool down."

Harry grinned, remembering times he, Ron and Hermione had used the Hogwarts Lake to a similar purpose.

"Lily!" The woman's voice held a soft welsh lilt, evident in even that one word. Turning as one being to trace the sound, Lily beamed in welcome while her son took in Cam Jones for the first time.

She was not practically remarkable at first glace. Neither tall nor short, hair now more grey than brown pulled back in a messy bun, a broad smile across her sun browned face and a large horse trailing after her on a lead rope, Harry could see nothing that would make her stand out in a crowded room. But there was something about the tilt of her head, a glimmer in her eyes…there was more to this woman that met the eye, and for some unbeknown reason, Harry suddenly felt like all the world was good again.

"Harry, this is our neighbour Cam Jones. Cam, Harry."

Cam smiled even wider, an amazing feet considering the width of her original.

"Lovely to meet you." she said, gripping his hand in a firm handshake. "This is Pax."

She waved a hand behind her, to where the horse was slowly testing exactly how much of a grip his owner had on her lead rope.

"We were beginning to wonder where you were." continued the woman, her portrayal of absolute calmness at meeting her best friends long-lost child only betrayed by the slight twitching of her left eyebrow. It was something Lily had noticed many years previous about her calm, collected friend. If she was nervous, her left eyebrow twitched. If she was angry, her nose flared. If she was upset, she started fiddling with her hair. And so on, and so forth.

"You left ages ago." Cam prompted, waiting for an explanation.

"Sorry. Had a bit of a…run in." Lily said, her eyes warning Cam to ask no more.

"Right. I see. Now, I'd better be getting this one to the field." Suddenly all bustle and business, she started on her way once more.

"Nice meeting you Harry!" she called over her shoulder, already out of earshot by the time his "you to" had even approached his lips.

Lily grinned at the expression on her sons face.

"You get used to her after a while." she said consolingly. "And don't worry. She's not always like that. We've had an interesting few days."

"You're not the only ones." Harry muttered with a slight grin, subconsciously rubbing his scar.

"Round here."

Lily guided Harry round the side of the larger of the two houses, towards the sounds he had heard earlier. The pathway, like the lane had done before it, opened out suddenly into a large, untidy garden. Several flowerbeds, slightly wild and overgrown, bordered what we shall call a lawn, if only for want of a better word – there was grass, but the daisies, buttercups, dandelions and moss severely outweighed it, and towards what Harry presumed was the end of the land stood several trees, probably apple. The river Lily had mentioned earlier wound through afore mentioned trees, before disappearing through a hole in the wall that bordered the garden, and several chickens were scratching about in the grass, emitting occasional squawks of displeasure as the three splashing children got to close. A large bush, easily climbing over the boundary wall, was planted nearby, and seemed to have, oddly, sprouted a pair of legs.

Jane saw them first. In the middle of spraying Gemma with a water pistol, she looked up, her eyes instantly widening. The smaller girl took advantage of this fact by lobbing a water-filled balloon in Jane's direction, making contact just below one shoulder. Unsettled by her lack of reaction, the Gemma followed her sister's gaze, and froze. Finally noticing his sister's odd behaviour, Jack looked up, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly. All three had been told the previous night of the last few days happenings, and while their parents had always told them of their missing years, and of the mysterious missing child, actually seeing him standing in their garden was something else all together.

"You really should come over again." James Potter suddenly emerged from under the bush, grinning up at his wife and son. "I've never seen them all so still or silent, perhaps with the exception of when they're asleep."

Harry nodded distractedly, staring back at the three figures staring at him. Slowly, the smallest girl began to scramble out of the river she was standing him, and make her way across the grass, apparently not noticing the wet grass sticking to her legs and feet. A few feet behind her trailed the other two, the other girl wide eyed and staring, the boy slightly distracted by the noise his feet were making in the grass.

There was an elongated silence as the three arrived, assembling themselves in front of Harry and staring up at him solemnly with identical green eyes.

"Harry," said James after a while, when it became clear none of his offspring were going to speak, "meet Jane, Gemma and Jack."

Harry grinned nervously sat them, waiting (and hoping) for one of them to speak first.

"Hi." The smaller girl – Gemma? Or was it Jane? – spoke, bright smile betrayed only by the slight waver in her voice.

"Hello."

Glancing at each other behind Harrys back, the two adult Potters began to slowly sidle away from their gathered children. Perhaps giving them a chance to get to know each other, without parents breathing down their necks…

"You like horses?" The boy spoke next, speaking so matter of factly it seemed as though discovering long lost brothers was an everyday occurrence.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really sure." he admitted. "Never really been round them."

All three children looked shocked.

"Never?" gasped the eldest girl, incredulous.

"Nope."

The middle girl – Harry was pretty sure it was Gemma – looked indignant. She seized Harrys hand, disgust written all over her features.

"That," she said, pulling him over to the boundary wall, "is a horse."

Harry nodded, about to open his mouth to explain that he knew what a horse was, he just didn't have much contact with them, but thought the better of it.

"This one," the child continued, waving her hand towards the nearest animal, "is called Frank. She's my favourite."

Harry smiled appreciatively, eyeing the horse warily as it approached.

"Frank," the little girl continued seriously, "this is Harry. He's our brother."

The horse seemed wholly unaffected by this statement, choosing instead to stick its head over the wall and nuzzle Jane's ear. She shrieked with delight, and pushed the horse away.

"Stop it Frank! I'm all wet, and you're hairy!"

Frank gave her a beady eye, and turned her attention to Harry. Horse and boy stared at each other wearily for a moment, before Frank suddenly thrust her head forward once more, hitting Harry square in the chest.

He looked up from the ground, where he had landed with a nice sharp bump, to see three hysterical children and one very pleased looking horse.

"Sorry," giggled Jane, wiping her eyes, "but your face!" She slid down onto the grass next to him, the occasional trickle of laughter escaping every time she looked at him. The other two copied their older sister, Jack seeming to collapse on himself, sprawling on the ground, Gemma simply crossing her legs and falling.

"Are there many of them?" Harry asked, trying to ignore the dull ache beginning in his rear.

"Well," said Jane, thinking. "There's Frank. And Pax. And Nic-Nac. Merry, but he's tiny, and Rose, who's huge. Spindle, she's pretty. And Fishfinger."

Harry blinked. "Fishfinger?"

"Yep. But we call him fish for short. Jack named him, when he was like 3."

"They're not ours." added Gemma with a sigh of resignation. "They're all Cam's. But we can ride them."

"Do you have any pets?" Jack asked seriously, and Harry had the feeling he was going to be judged carefully on his answer.

"I've got Hedwig." he said, after a moments though. "She's an owl."

This was evidently enough for all three. Gemma gasped with delight, Jane's eyes widened yet again, this time with wonder, and Jack looked suitably impressed.

"Really? What she look like?"

"She's all white, with black markings."

"Then she's not all white." said Gemma seriously. "She's black and - "

"Oh shut up Gem." Jane hissed, glaring at her sister. "It's still an owl! I've only ever seen them in the night time."

"We've got Paddy." said Gemma, sounding slightly injured that the creature had been thus far unmentioned. "He's as good as any owl."

"Paddy's only a dog! Everyone has dogs. Can we see her?"

Harry blinked, suddenly realising the question was directed at him. "Well, um, yeah. Sure. I'll bring her with me next time."

"Oh good!" Jack clapped his hands gleefully.

Jane's face, however, turned serious. "you are coming back then?"

"Of course." The words slipped out before Harry even thought about them – it was an automatic reaction. Of course he was coming back!

Jane nodded, her facing showing neither joy nor disappointment.

"Can you play swing ball?" interjected Jack, apparently oblivious to all but his immediate thoughts.

Harry shook his head. "Never heard of it."

And they were off again, the three hauling Harry to his feet and pulling him off down the garden, chattering about everything and nothing as they went.

And so it was that, maybe an hour later when Lily and James Potter went looking for their various offspring, they found all four surrounding the swing ball set, Jane and Gemma alternating between instructing and cheering as the two boys grasped rackets and took swipes at the flying ball. Upon sighting his parents, Jack dropped the racket and raced towards them, tailed closely by his sisters.

"Mum! Dad! Harry's got un _owl_!"

"And he said he'd bring it to see us!"

"And he never knew what swing ball was!"

"Or a horse!"

"But we teached him!"

"And we're gonna show him the river, cos he never built a proper dam neither! Or a tree house! Or a den!"

It was becoming clear to Harry that his two youngest siblings considered him a very deprived person in all the areas that it mattered.

"And," announced Jane, speaking for the first time since her parents appearance, "he's nice and he's gonna come live with us forever!"

A silence met this declaration, all eyes bar Jane's turned to look at Harry. Harry gazed steadily back, taking in their faces without comment. Did he really want to leave the Durselys for a group of what appeared to be madmen (and women), living in a house he was actually yet to set foot in?

Well duh.

Three days later, and Harry was leaving the Durselys front door for the last time. The previous nights confrontation with the Durselys had been perhaps the most unusual in all of his 15 years with them. He had gone to them after dinner, once they were gathered in the sitting room staring at the telly. Stepping in front of it had been enough to warrant his "families" full attention.

"Boy! Move!" had been the grunt from his uncle.

"No."

Vernon's moustache bristled, his face purpling.

"I just came down here to say I'm leaving."

The moustache resided, replaced by a look of utter delight.

"Leaving? When? How long for?"

Harry had never known his uncle take such an interest in his affairs.

"Tomorrow. Forever."

There was a silence, broken only by the mutterings of the televisions and the strange choking noises coming from Vernon's throat.

"Forever?" he gasped, looking as though he couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes." Harry said shortly, seeing no need to prolong the conversation. By the door, Dudley was slouched in an armchair, a look of piggy delight all over his piggy face. Vernon had managed to tare his gaze away from the telly and up at Harry, looking as though every Christmas he'd ever had, and every one yet to come, had all hit him at once. Only Petunia continued to stare at the television, but her face was blank, and something had told Harry she wasn't watching.

And so it was that Harry and his mother were once more standing in his once bedroom. The hole under the floorboards had been cleared, Hedwig was locked in her cage, and everything else was thrown haphazardly into his trunk. Lily had frowned slightly at the realisation that 15 years of her sons life fit into one school trunk with room to spare, but said nothing. She had already decided, upon seeing that every single piece of clothing he owned was at least 3 sizes to big, that a shopping trip was necessary. This only confirmed it.

"Ready?" she asked as Harry re-appeared from under his bed, having made one final check. Most of his most treasured possessions had lived under it for five years, and he was most definitely not leaving them behind.

He took one last look round the room that had never quite been home, and nodded.

"Ready."

And so it was that Harry Potter left Privet Drive for the final time.

* * *

Bless him! Free at last! 

Next week…a bit of a tiding over, Harry spends his first week with his family, and I give you an early major cliffy warning!

Review!


	18. In Which Time Passes

Hola all!!!!

How be we all? Hoping you are well! I, on the other hand am not…I found out over the weekend that one of my best friends is moving to New Zealand in February. Which is NOT GOOD! Wales…to New Zealand…long long way!!!

I'm not entirely happy with this chapter…its sort of a tiding over chapter more than anything, and not much seems to happen. However, like all tiding chapters, it is necessary if we want to reach the next plot point…doesn't make me like it any better…

The people who I love better than anything apart from my chickens and dog are **Len87, Mei1105, Haunted, Orion in the Sky, Bethy Ann, Lady Potter of Tortall, dingohart, Tansiana, flower123, ballerinadoll9, krl25, GilmoreAholic, Skylar B., Kylara Kitsune, Seikinoko, potter princess, A Marked Propensity **(plot holes? Where, and I shall fix them!), and** jasongill.**

Wow!!!! The list gets longer every week! Not as long as some, thank god, or I'd be copy and pasting all night! One story I'm reading is on chapter 13, and has 1100 reviews! (Learning to Breath, a brilliant Harry Potter fic). Way to make you feel inadequate!!!!

Sorry there were no review replies this week...I was snowed under with various activities and events that are too boring and many to name…

* * *

The first day was strange. Waking up in a bed that wasn't either his four poster at Hogwarts or the near-collapsing creaky bed at Privet drive was a momentarily disconcerting, as were the pale walls, wooden furniture and sunlight poring through the large window. Hearing the sounds of _his _family waking and getting up around him, the radio that seemed to be permanently on, emitting an ever-going commentary. And then there was the complete chaos that seemed to swirl around the house – the large black dog, who looked far to much like Sirius for Harrys comfort, would take to racing around, pursued by the two youngest Potter children, while the chickens would wander in through one door, scratch around for a bit before being chased out by whoever noticed them first. 

Cam appeared at least four or five times, bringing with her a whole new whirlwind of activity, while a large cat would appear every now and again, leap onto the highest surface and glare disdainfully down upon everyone present, sending the dog into another frenzy. Lunch was a haphazard affair – at some point some took it upon themselves to through together the oddest collection of sandwiches Harry had ever seen, and everyone seemed to wander in and out at random to grab one. It was as far from Hogwarts mass feasts and Mrs Weasleys morning long preparations as it could be.

The afternoon passed in a much similar way. Jane had disappeared after grabbing her sandwich, having flicked between chattering nineteen to the dozen about anything and everything to Harry for most of the morning, to glaring at him for the remainder, apparently for no reason. Having spent several years of his life being worse than glared at by various entities, the glare in itself did not bother him. The fact that Jane seemed to have decided to hate him, however, did.

The second day was better. Errol arrived during what passed as breakfast, causing Gemma, who was the only one actually sitting at the table, to drop her spoon into her cereal and spill it everywhere. Harry swiftly relieved him of the large parcel tied to his leg, and left him to Jane, who's delight in all things breathing had overcome her current apparent dislike for her brother. So, while she petted and stroked the owl, tempting him with bits of ham from the fridge, Harry unwrapped the parcel. Gemma, recovering from the shock enough to resurface from under the table, but not enough to move any closer to the bird, watched him from the other side of the room with wary eyes. The sight of the poster, which unfurled itself instantly as Harry untied the string binding in, complete with moving orange clad people swooping around on broomsticks, caused her to shriek, and run from the room.

"Don't worry." Said Jane flatly as Harry gazed worriedly at his sister's retreating back. "She always does that."

Harry nodded uncertainly, re-rolling the poster and picking up the letter that had fallen out with it.

"_Hey Harry_," it read. "_Something for your room, seeing as how it's yours now. How's it going? Are they all right? What are the other kids like? I'm guessing you don't want to come stay this summer, but what about meeting up in Diagon Alley sometime? We could get school stuff sat the same time. You are coming back to Hogwarts right?_ _Have you had your booklist yet? Or the OWL results? Hermione's crawling up the walls in desperation, she reckons they're taking so long 'cos Dummblesdore's trying to think of a nice way to tell her she failed everything._

_By the way, can I tell mum and dad and the others about it yet? We told Ginny, but Hermione said to keep it quiet until we heard otherwise, so no one else knows. Only mum knows something's up – she reckons you're dead, and we've not told her in a vague attempt to save her feelings or something._

_Anyway, see you on September 1st (I hope) if not before._

_Ron._

Harry grinned, slipping the letter into his jean pocket. The poster was obviously from his own collection, curling at the edges and the colours fading, but the moving figures were still clearly visible.

"How'd they do that?"

Jane's voice broke the silence as she looked curiously at the poster.

"What?"

"The moving thing. How's they do that?"

Harry shrugged, suddenly realising he'd never actually bothered to find out. "Magic, I guess."

Jane nodded. "You can do magic."

It was a statement, not a question.

Harry smiled slightly. "I know."

"Could I do magic?"

He shrugged again. "No idea. You'll get a Hogwarts letter soon, if you are a witch."

Jane nodded. "That's your school right?"

"Yep." Harry searched for something to elaborate on – this was the longest amount of time Jane had talked to him since he's moved in. "It's really good."

"You got friends there?"

"A few." Harry nodded at the poster. "One of them just sent me that."

"Why?"

"Erm. Cos he's my friend?" Harry offered, perplexed.

"But why a poster? Is it your birthday?"

"No. But I've never had a proper bedroom before, so I guess he thought I'd like something to put in it."

"You a vampire or summit?"

"What?" Harry blinked, caught of kilter by the remark.

"Well there's all this magic stuff. And if you don't have a bedroom, which means you mustn't have a bed. So you musty be a vampire, or something like it."

"What on earth makes you think I don't have a bed?"

"You said you don't have a bedroom. So you mustn't have a bed. So you mustn't sleep. Or not in a bed, anyway."

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it. "I'm human." He said, still grinning. "See?"

He took her hand and placed it over his heart. Jane frowned for a moment, concentrating on the steady rhythm.

"Ok." She admitted after a moment. "You got a heart. So why no bed?"

"I had one of them too."

"So what, it were outside?"

"Nope."

"In a tree?"

"Nope."

"Underwater?"

"Nope."

"In a kennel?"

"Nope."

"A chicken house? A shed? A cupboard?"

"Nope, nope and nope."

"Ha-rry! Tell me!" Becoming tired with the game, Jane began to whine with annoyance.

"It was in a room." Harry said calmly.

"That's cheating! You said you never had a bedroom! And a bedroom is a room where your bed is! So you did have a bedroom!"

"Not really. The first room that contained my bed was the cupboard under the stairs, and- "

"Hey! I said cupboard!"

"But not the one under the stairs."

Jane glared at him. "Cheat. Where else did you sleep?"

"I got moved into my cousins second bedroom when I was 11. That one was aright, but since the house it was in wasn't home, and I was only actually in it 8 weeks of the year, I never actually counted it as mine as such."

"So where did you sleep for the other…34 weeks?" Jane asked, mentally doing the calculations.

"Hogwarts. Only there are five of us all in one room there, so it's more of a dormitory than my own room."

Jane seemed to consider this for a moment.

"D'you wanna see my room?" She offered after a few minutes.

"Sure." Harry nodded his consent, trying not to leap in the air with joy. This was the friendliest she'd been for the past 24 hours and boy, he was not going to mess it up.

A tour of her room (up in the attic, half the length of the house, windows tucked right under the roof) lead to a full-blown tour of the house, complete with the history of what had been done, where, and by whom. A wooden spiral staircase led down from Jane's room to the landing below, which had 5 doors opening off it two to the right, belonging to Jack and Gemma's rooms, two to the left, belonging to Lily and James and Harrys rooms, and one at the back, leading into a bathroom. Since the house had once been a barn, Jane informed him seriously, it was a true rectangle, so all the rooms were the same size, give or take, which was good 'cos there was no arguments.

Down some more stairs, stone this time, and they were in the main hall, which was more like a corridor running from the front of the house to the back. An alcove under the stairs was filled with coats, boots and shoes, stacked in boxes or hung up on iron pegs. The living room door opposite was open, the toilet door next to that was closed. Along the corridor, around a corner and into the dinning room that was also the kitchen, and study as well. Opposite that was the one room they did not enter. Jane pushed the door open almost reverently, but did not step inside.

"This is mums room." She whispered. "Where she paints. See?"

Harry peered over his sister's shoulder, taking in the room. His eye was caught by the sidewall, covered in postcards and sketches. Dragons, centaurs, unicorns, castles, wizards and witches covered the wall, caught by pencil or brush.

"Mum gets copies of all the paintings she sells."

Harry nodded vaguely, frowning as several familiar faces leapt out at him.

"That's Dumbledore." He said, reaching out and touching the card.

"We called him Gandalf."

"How come there's a picture of him?"

"Dunno. The man that came the other day said something about residue memories, or conscious, or something. I think mum just remembered him, even though she didn't."

Harry looked at her, bewildered.

"What? That's what I think!"

"If you say so."

"Pig."

"Idiot."

"Four eyes."

"Charming."

"Always am!"

Jane stuck her tongue out, crossing her eyes in the process.

"The wind'll change, and then you'll get stuck like that."

"Cool."

Harry shook his head. "You're strange." He said, looking bemused.

She grinned cheerfully. "Thanks. So's you."

"Don't I know it."

Jane stared up at her brother, looking thoughtful.

"Do you mind being strange?" She asked at last, frowning slightly.

"What d'you mean?"

"I dunno."

Harry shook his head, bemused, and the pair parted. That afternoon, when they met accidentally over lunch, she smiled at him, and though no words were shared, Harry guessed he'd passed some sort of test.

On the third day, one week after Remus and Dumbledore had first turned up on the Potters doorstep, the same pair reappeared once more. Harry had spent the day being taught "play" by Jack and Gemma, Jane having once more disappeared to regions unknown, and so it was a dishevelled, messy haired teenager with a mud splattered face and wonky glasses that opened the door that evening.

Dumbledore beamed at him.

"Hello Harry." He said.

"Professor Dumbledore." Harry said, surprised. "Professor Lupin. We didn't know you were coming."

Lily appeared behind him in the hall.

"Albus!" She said, smiling and coming towards them. Dumbledore beamed.

"My dear Lily, it is wonderful to see you again." He stooped and hugged her briefly. Behind them, Remus seemed to have frozen in shook, and something told Lily he'd been trying to convince himself it had all been a dream, just to prevent a let-down.

"Remus!" She beamed, hugging him. That seemed to bring him out of his shock, for he smiled and hugged her back.

"Come in, come in." Lily gestured them both towards the sitting room. James, hearing all the voices, came in from the kitchen.

"Hello Prongs," Remus said mildly, as though they were casual acquaintances meeting in Tescos.

"Mooney." James nodded nonchalantly. Then they were suddenly embracing each other tightly.

Eventually, James let go and turned to Dumbledore.

"Albus!" He said with a grin. Dumbledore inclined his head, smiling

"Sit down, both of you." Said Lily, indicating the sofa.

"Thank you." Said Dumbledore. "Now, before I get onto my main reason for being here, I must give you this." He handed Lily a brown envelope with _Jane Potter, The Attic, 2 The Stables_, written on it. Three pairs of Potter eyes widened at the sight of it, before Lily took it almost reverently.

"We'll give it to her in the morning." She said, propping it up on the mantelpiece. Jane, having stayed up 'til gone 11 for the past few nights, had been marched to bed by her mother along with Jack and Gemma some half hour before.

Dumbledore nodded.

There was a silence while each member of the room stared at another, enjoying for a moment the company.

"A good week?" Dumbledore inquired after a few minutes, and the broad grins across each Potters face were all he needed. "I thought as much. My main reason for calling was to inquire as to you think you are ready to announce to the rest of the world your presence. There is less than a month until the term re-starts, and it may be a good idea to get the worst over with before then."

Harry paled, having not thought previously thought of the attention he would be receiving in the coming term. Oh the joys of being famous.

"Guess we might as well get it over and done with." Sighed Lily gloomily, having no desire to have her privacy plastered all over the papers.

"What do you think, Albus?" Asked James, wondering exactly what the old headmaster had in mind.

"Maybe a few lines in the prophet. That should cause enough sensation for the next year, no need to give them any more fuel than that." Remus suggested, having seen the horrified look on Harrys face.

"That seems sensible." Albus nodded.

A variety of non-committal noises emptied from the rest of the room, and so the Potters happy week of 'getting to know you' began to draw to a close.

Harry would later remember the fourth day as being the calm before the storm. Jane read her Hogwarts letter four times, her thoughts changing from joy to fear to worry to excitement with each reading. Lily, seizing what was likely to be her last chance of getting out of the house un-noticed for several weeks, dragged Harry off to the nearest town, declaring she could bare the sight of Dudley's hand-me-downs no longer, no matter how much Harry protested that really they were ok, and returned with several lorry-fulls of clothes and a pale, weak looking son. The darkest wizard of the age was one thing, clothes shopping was quite another. Cam and Mark came over for dinner, and Scat managed to loose yet another life nearly drowning in the water butt.

And on the fifth day, all hell broke loose.

The Daily Prophet arrived in the lull between breakfast and the day's activities, as it had done everyday for the past five. And plastered across the front page was a picture of Harry next to a picture of Lily and James's wedding day, though Merlin only knew how the Prophet got hold of it.

_The Family Who Lived! _The headline screamed, to all who wanted to know. Which was, unfortunately, most of the wizarding world.

_All of us are familiar with the tragic story of Harry Potter, orphaned when his family was attacked by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fifteen years ago. But startling evidence has recently come to light, and the Daily Prophet can now exclusively reveal that Lily and James Potter, who have been believed dead since the attack, have been discovered alive and well. Nothing is known of their whereabouts for the past fifteen years, but a reliable source informs this reporter that the Potters are currently spending time being re-united with their son. Harry Potter, also known as the Chosen One…_And so on.

By lunchtime, Harry had received owls from Mrs Wesley (tear stained, declaring she'd never heard such good news in all her life), Ron and Hermione (short, and comfortingly pitying), the twins (care to mention Weasleys Wizard Wheezes in his next interview? Only kidding…) and Rita Skeeter (And how does all this make you _feeeel_?)

He burned the last, and replied to the others.

Thanks to some luck on their part, and what was probably a quick bit of spell work on Dumbledores, none of the reporters seemed to know the exact whereabouts of the Potters, although there were claims by the Prophets reporter that they were currently living in Hawaii.

On the 6th Day, another hundred owls arrived, mainly from various branches of the Ministry, all feeling it their duty to rather pompously congratulate the Potters on their miraculous recovery from death, with a few from old acquaintances and friends of Lily and James, sincere shock and joy radiating from pages that declared wishes to meet and catch up. And if James saw his wife scouring every letter with an almost obsessional look for the one signature that never came, he said nothing.

Remus arrived again that evening, and they spent a surprisingly pleasant night gathered in the sitting room, Gemma, Jack and Jane stretched out on the carpet playing a game with no rules and a lot of giggling, Harry at the desk with his neglected summer homework – Snape would most defiantly not take the return of his parents as an excuse for not completing it – and Lily, James, Remus, Cam and Mark seated around on the sofas, diligently replying to every friends letter received that day.

And it was on the seventh day that the dementor arrived.

* * *

Dun dun DUNNN!!!! Oh I am evil!!! I could be even eviler, and not update next Monday…but I shall, do not fear!!!

Next week...well, I ain't gonna tell you!!!

See you all then!


	19. In Which They See Harry in Action

Hola!!!!

How be we all? Hoping you've been having nicer weather this week than we've had over here in Wales!!! Wind, rain…Tornados in London!

Many thanks to **seikinoko**, who unknowingly gave me the title for this chapter!

And, of course, many many thanks to the beautiful people who reviewed…

**flower123, GilmoreAholic, ballerinadoll9, armygundamgirl, Lady Potter of Tortall, padfoot'smoon, Tansiana, Nessa19, seikinoko, Kylara Kitsune, caz-felton-malfoy, Bethy Ann, Len87, A Marked Propensity, HeyLookTheSnitch, Carn, **and **krl25. **

Sorry for the cliffie!!! If virtual looks could kill, I'd be buried and gone by now!!!

By the way, any of my readers a) English, b) in 6th Form and c) going on Vet/Med-Link at Nottingham University next week???? Just wondering!

On we go again!!!! Cliffie free!!! But bad news awaits at the bottom, I'm afraid...

* * *

It was late evening, the end of a cold, drizzly day. They were all in the sitting room, the double doors shut tight against the rain. Jane was stretched out on the sofa; book in one hand, half an eye on the television, where cartoon faces flashed. In front of it sat Gemma and Jack, transfixed by the film. Lily sat at the desk, hair tucked behind her ears as she poured over her account books, adding up expenses and takings. James was studying one of Harrys old school books, and Harry himself, sitting in one of the armchairs, was replying to yet another letter from Ron.

Jack felt it first. Maybe because he was closest to the door, maybe because he was the youngest, maybe because he'd never felt it before…but suddenly, large fat tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"Mum," Gemma whispered, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "Mum…it's all cold." Then she too was crying.

And then Harry felt it. Creeping up under his skin, from his very core outwards, such an unimaginable cold, dark despair…no wonder Jack and Gemma were crying.

"What the…" James looked up, his face pale and drawn. The lights, turned on to fight out the gloomy evening, suddenly flickered off, and the handle on the double doors to the outside began to twist.

And suddenly, Harry was no longer 16, at home and with his family. He was 13, on a train, amongst friends but at the same time so utterly alone…and someone was screaming.

But they weren't…because he's been here, seen all this before, and fought it and won…and now he _knew _what he had heard wasn't true anyway.

"Out!" Lily shrieked, jerking Harry out of the stupor. It was still cold, but a numb sort of cold, as though he were outside his own body, watching himself be cold.

James had grabbed Jack, who seemed immobilised on the floor nearest the door, and Jane was scrambling over the sofa to reach the exit into the hall. Lily had grabbed Gemma's hand, hauling her along out of the room.

Screams, panic…Sirius caught in laughter, falling, falling…Cedric's eyes, glassy and unseeing, reflecting the firelight from underneath the cauldron…Voldemort, rising out of that same cauldron like a snake from a basket…

Harry allowed himself to be bundled out of the sitting room door and striahgt through into the kitchen, the cold stench of the Dementor clouding his mind. He was vaughly aware of his father shouting something, and of Lily shouting back…And then, suddenly, James was leaving the room.

"Where's he going?" Harry cried, seeing the tears pouring down Lilys face as she threw all her weight against the door.

"Stupid, stupid idiot!"

"What's he done?"

"Lock the door! He's gone and locked us in!"

Harry blanched.

"But…the Dementor!"

"Stupid, cocky, idiotic brain-washed pig! Doesn't _think_! How do _we_ get out??!!!"

"We don't." Harry said softly, cold clarity settling in the pit of his stomach as he realised exactly what his father was planning.

"What d'you mean, we don't?" Lily, on the verge of tears, threw herself helplessly once more at the jammed door, and slid to the floor.

"We don't. He either manages a patronus, and it goes, and he comes and gets us…or he doesn't, and he gets kissed."

"And he locks us in here???"

"Dementors have no wands. If he's spelled the door shut, it can't get in." Harry explained dully, reciting words drilled into his brain by Hermione before their DADA OWL.

"I am going to kill him! Dust-rained, hero complexed…Harry?" Lily jerked out of her rant by the sight of her eldest son leaping across the room and scooping up his wand from the kitchen table, where Jane had left it after a critical examination earlier in the day. Her eyes widened in shock as she realised what he was about to do, moments before he did it.

"Oh no. Not you too."

She pulled herself upright, shilling the door.

"Yes me too! I can help!"

"Harry, you're 16!"

"I've faced dementors before, I can do it again."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"I lost him once! I ain't doing that again!"

Harry whipped his wand round, shakily pointing it at his mother.

"Move."

"No." Lily glared defiantly back down her sons wand. "You're not the only one to have seen a war, Harry. I've seen what a dementor can do to a person."

"So let me out before you see it again!" Sparks leapt from the end of his wand, but Lily didn't flinch.

"Let me past."

She said nothing, just looking at him. Harry felt the frustration building inside him – how could she just stare at him like that, when the man she loved could be worse than dying mere meters away. Time seemed to freeze as mother and son bored into each others eyes, each trying to understand exactly what was going through the others head. It's strange what you can see in someone's eyes, if you look closely. You don't need to know the person at all well, just be able to _look_ at them.

Harry saw nothing, at first, other than the glare of defiance that told him he was not passing on any terms – this was a woman who had faced a Potters wand many times before, and never once backed down. But then he saw it – the flicker of fear that betrayed something much deeper, a life of darkness in both knowledge and fear. The determination to do what she saw as being right, the choice that she saw as resulting in the least painful outcome.

And in her turn, Lily saw anger, and a seething determination. Anger at her, for blocking his way. Anger at James, for locking them in. Anger at the dementor, for daring to disturb them. Determination to stop it hurting anyone at all. It scared her, the sight of so much anger on such a young face.

But the eyes…they weren't young. They were old, betraying a pain and a terror and experience that no-one should have to go through, especially not someone of his age.

Neither moved for maybe a minute, but that was all it took to absorb all the information needed. A crash from outside broke the moment, causing both to jump. Harry, with reflexes bourn of several years of quidditch training, took the chance to thrust his mother to one side, unlocking the door with a muttered spell, and bursting through it. It took only another moment to re-lock the door – he wouldn't put it past Lily to try and follow him, and she had no wand – and then he was off, back across the corridor and into the sitting room.

The source of the crash was easily evident – the table, on which had previously rested a lamp and a couple of photos, now lay in several pieces across the floor, the frames shattered and the lamp shade ripped.

But what caused Harry to pull up short in horror was the figure crouched in the centre of the floor. The dementor had its hands on James's shoulder, forcing him down, and Harry didn't need to see his face to know it would be covered in a look of abject horror.

The moment he'd re-entered the room the clod had reared up once more inside him, but weaker than it had been previously – the creature was focusing on one thing, and one thing only. And it wasn't Harry.

Which, as it turned out, was a mistake.

His wand was up before he'd even known what he was doing. The screams had returned, faint and distant, an annoyance more than anything else, and the cold laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange was nagging at his brain.

The hood was down, the cold rattling breath seeping through the room. Harry shuddered, remembering the last time he had heard that noise, felt the cold, calmly hand reaching down for him…

Suddenly realising exactly what path he was heading down, Harry pulled himself back.

Happy thoughts…happy thoughts… 

"My parents…I'm living with my parents…Voldemort is gone…I'm living with my parents…Voldemort is gone…"

Harry began to chant the words over and over again his head, and suddenly the stag erupted from the end of his wand. He careened over to the dementor, using its great antlers to toss the dark creature in the air.

The dementor retreated, herded back by the stag, out the door and out of sight.

Muttering a quick spell the undo the locks confining his mother and siblings, Harry dropped his wand and rushed to his father. The stag had returned, lighting up the room with its pale glow just enough for Harry to see James's eyes. They were wide, terrified, seeing. For a moment, just before it faded out of sight, they focused on the stag, and a flicker of recognition and shock appeared. And then it was gone, replaced by a mingle of terror, relief and weariness.

The door burst open once more, and Lily Potter stormed in, Jack latched onto her neck.

"You're alright!" she cried upon seeing them, crouched there amidst the wreckage. "Oh Merlin, you're alright…" Jack momentarily forgotten, she threw her arms around them both, crushing them into a massive, painful, hug. Then, just as suddenly, she drew back and slapped them smartly, one after the other, across the cheek.

"You idiots! What do you think you were doing! You," she pointed accusingly at James, "could have locked _yourself _in with us! And then we called for help! But of course, you had to be the hero, throwing yourself at Death!"

James shifted nervously under his wife's angry rant, debating fainting from shock to shut her up.

"And you!" she cried, swinging round to face Harry, "Of all the idiotic things to do! Coming out here! You could have been killed!!! Both of you!"

And then she burst into tears.

HTCHB

That night they all slept downstairs. Bedding was dragged down into the sitting room, and slowly the Potters dropped off to sleep. Gemma and Jack, squished next to each other in one armchair first, then Lily and James, coiled up together on the floor, wands still in hand. Which left Harry, alone on the sofa, and Jane, alone in the other armchair. Harry watched her for a while, as she seemed to conduct some sort of inner battle with herself. Finally, after many minutes, she clambers to her feet, softly crossed the room, and slipped in next to her brother. He shifted over a little, and she curled up against him, her head on her shoulder, his head on her head.

He was almost asleep when she spoke.

"Harry?" She whispered, barely more than breathing.

"Yeah?"

"That were really scary."

"I know."

"Why'd you like magic so much then?"

"Cos it's not all like that. Some…most of it is good, and right and beautiful. That was the worst magic you get. When we get to Hogwarts, I'll show you the best."

And they too fell asleep.

HTCHB

No one slept well that night – the slightest noise from outside was enough to cause everyone to stir, and when Paddy wandered in at about 2 am to see why his family were all sleeping downstairs, the poor dog very narrowly avoided being thrown through the wall by a spell from Harrys wand. By 7:30 the following morning, no one was even trying to sleep any longer. It had taken maybe two minutes of debate for the elder Potters to decide Dumbledore needed to be contacted – aside from the very evident fact that it was no coincidence that a Dementor had turned up in Moor Lane, there was also the fact that Harry had performed his second act of magic outside Hogwarts in just over a year, albeit in self defence, and if they weren't careful, the Ministry would be hailing him in once more.

Cam, having appeared at about 10 to beg an egg, had been so appalled by the pale faces and dark under-eyes of her adopted family that she had very nearly bought out her "remedy soup", much to the horror of each and every member of the household save Harry, who had yet to experience its "remedial" qualities. She had eventually forced the whole story out of Lily, before whisking Gemma and Jack over to her own kitchen to "help" her bake, her ulterior motive being both getting them out of the house, and taking their mind of the previous night. Jane had refused to go, for, once she had heard Dumbledore had been contacted, she had declared that she wanted to know exactly what was going on, not just what they judged alright to tell her. Harry too had been offered, rather doubtfully, an invitation, but no one was particularly surprised when he decided to stay and wait for Dumbledore.

It wasn't that he didn't like Cam – that would be almost impossible – and she was more than happy to talk to him…but, and there always was a but, there was something off about her, that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Remus too was contacted, if only because he was Remus, and had seen the Potter through more crises in the 10 years they had originally had than any other remaining friend.

As it was, Dumbledore arrived with both Remus and Rufus Scridgemour, new Minister of Magic, in tow. Having shown slightly more brain content than his predecessor, Scridgemour had contacted Dumbledore before sending out the entire Misuse of Magic Squad the moment the news of underage magic at the residence of Harry Potter had reached the Ministry, and Dumbledore had already been on his way over when Hedwig arrived.

Once being pompously greeted by Scridgemour, who professed an amazing rendition of insincere delight at their return, the four Potters and their three visitors decamped to the sitting room. The furniture, broken, James had explained, when he'd tried to leap the sofa, had been fixed, but the broken frames had not – both Lily and James's wands were still acting oddly, and liable to over react to the slightest spell every now and again.

"What happened?" asked Dumbledore as they all seated themselves, cutting in before Scridgemour could start bustling. He was a slight improvement on Fudge, thus far, but only very slight.

And so the Potters explained, Lily and James each telling their side of the tale while the others listened, Remus looking shocked, Scridgemour uncomfortable, and Dumbledore blank.

"Well, Minister," began Dumbledore evenly as the tale finished, "I'm sure you will agree with me that no charges need be bought against Harry. He was evidently working in defence of both himself and his family."

The "again" wasn't spoken, but it hung in the air, making even the lofty Minister feel uncomfortable.

"Yes. Yes, of course." he agreed quickly. "I must say, this is most distressing to learn. How the Dementor knew where to come, I don't know."

"It would appear Voldemort was rallying them once more before his destruction." said Remus quietly. "One of his henchmen must have discovered the Potters location, and decided to kill several bones with one stone."

Harry waited for the out burst of "there are no Dementors outside of Ministry control", but it didn't come. Instead, the Minister allowed a look of concern to flash across his bushy features. He was smarmy, all charm and good will, but he was at least smarter than Fudge.

"If Death Eaters know of your location, there is nothing to say they could not make an appearance themselves. By your leave, Mr and Mrs Potter, I would like to post one of my aurors with you for a short while, until something more long term can be worked out for your protection.

James began to splutter something, but Scridgemour held up a hand to silence him.

"Please, Mr Potter, allow me to do this. My Ministry has failed you and your son already, in one way or another. Let me make up for it."

"With all respect, Minister, we have both faced Dark Wizards before."

"Over 16 years ago, Mrs Potter. The world has changed since then. Neither you nor your husbands are, or ever have been, aurors. You are not trained for the sort of situations that could occur."

He stood; making it clear the conversation was over. Nodding courtesy at each member of the room, he turned to leave.

"Expect a member of the Magical Protection team at some point today. I apologise for the inconvenience. Don't worry, I can show myself out."

And he did.

Lily shuddered as she heard the door close.

"Awful man. I remember him from when Jane worked in the Auror office. She used to call him an obsessive, hairy – sorry professor."

She stopped suddenly, realising Dumbledore was watching her with a slightly amused expression.

"No worries, my dear. Rufus, while being a vast improvement on his predecessor, still leaves much to be wished for."

"Who was his predecessor? And what exactly has the ministry done to you, Harry?"

"Cornelius Fudge, and it's more a case of what it hasn't done." said Remus with a grim smile.

"Umbridge, trying to hunt down Sirius, the trial last year…" Harry ticked them off on his fingers. "Yeah. We don't get on."

"Umbridge?" asked James curiously.

"Trial?" Lily panicked, wondering if her son took after his father in more ways than was healthy.

And so Harry explained, and a bit more of his past began to colour itself in for his parents.

HTCHB

True to the Ministers word, that afternoon the door was knocked in that sharp, official way that can only mean an officer of the law. So to say that Lily Potter was surprised when she opened the door to reveal a young, pink haired girl in her early twenties would be an understatement.

"Mrs Potter?" the woman said briskly. "I believe you were expecting me."

"Umm…from the Ministry?" she ventured eventually.

The woman smiled, her face transforming into something that suited her much better than the austere look she had held.

"Names Tonks. Pleasure to meet you."

Both Harry and Remus looked up as the familiar figure entered the sitting room behind Lily – Harry smiling, Remus paling.

"James, Harry, Jane, Remus," Lily began, Dumbledore having already left, "This is…Tonks, did you say?"

"Yep. Hey Remus, Wotcher Harry."

Harry grinned. "Hey Tonks. When he said auror, I didn't think he meant you."

"Me neither." said Remus under his breath.

"He didn't. I 'volunteered'."

James was examining her searchfully. "Have we met before?" he ventured at last. His memories were back, but there were a lot of them, and it sometimes took a few minutes for him to find the one he was looking for.

"Years and years ago." said Tonks with a shrug.

"You've met?" gaped Harry incredulously, doing some rapid mental maths in his head.

"Yeah. I was about five at the time, mind."

"Andromadas daughter?" Lily said suddenly, comprehension dawning on her face.

Tonks smiled properly and nodded. "The very same."

"But you were a little girl last time I saw you. How are you parents?"

"They're getting by alright. Pleased as punch when I told them about you lot."

"I suddenly feel very old." muttered James, looking her up and down.

Tonks winced. "You're not that much older than me." she said quietly, eyes on Remus.

James, ever the oblivious one, laughed.

"Tonks – do you still like to be called that? Good. Tonks, Moony here could be your father."

"Not really." Tonks shifted uncomfortably, trying to steer the conversation away from the rather touchy subject of ages.

Lily frowned to herself, her mind reaching several different conclusions to explain the Auror and Remus's odd behaviour, each one as unlikely as the next. But she intended to find out.

Oh for the joys of gossipy digging…life would be so boring without it.

* * *

Sorry for the lateness! I had hoped to get this beta-ed before posting, but my sister is up to her eyeballs in Christmas card making at the moment, so won't be with us until next chapter!

And now for the bad news…there will be no update next week. I'm going on the Vet-Link course at Nottingham University, and just have too much to get done before hand. So the next update will be Christmas (re-christened Doctor Who) Day! And if you're really, really good, I may even throw in an extra update…maybe. Not promising.

So until Christmas, farewell! Enjoy the specials, the re-makes, the Doctor Who episode and the end of Torchwood!!!

An early Merry Christmas to you all!!!


	20. In Which Discussions are Held

Hola!!!! And a very Merry Christmas to you al!!!! I'm back from a great week meeting all sorts of utterly mad and random people in Nottingham, on the University VetLink course, and they gave us a free stethoscope!!! Except it proves that we were all clinically dead!!!

The people who most defiantly weren't dead were my wonderful reviewers of two weeks ago… **Dangams, flower123, Whitelight72, padfoot'smoon, KeyKeeper12, Mei1105, ballerinadoll9, Kylara Kitsune, xxxxParvati-Patilxxxx, Lady Potter of Tortall, GilmoreAholic, Len87, seikinoko **and** Bethy Ann. **My apologies if you too have reviewed and your name is not here – I returned to find my email has folded up, so I cannot access anything!!! About 100 emails stuck up in cyberspace, waiting for their home!!!

So yes. Hope you've all had a wonderful day, full of Doctor Who and Vicar of Dibly, and are looking forward to an excellent new year. I know I am…Guernsey in January!!! Whoop!

* * *

Perhaps a week after Auror Tonks had turned up on her doorstep, Lily Potter cornered her husband in the kitchen.

"James,"

"Hmm?" He glanced up from the book he'd been studying. 20 years of no access to anything magical meant that, despite their regained memories, the Potters were still slightly hazy on many of their basic spells, and so Harry's old school books had resurfaced from the depths of his trunk.

"Remember in 5th year when Remus and Liz couldn't be within 20 feet of each other without turning into a pair of tomatoes?"

"Yes…"

"And that time I shouted at you for being an inconsiderate pig after I'd found Liz had locked herself in our room 'cos you'd told her you didn't think Remus was really ready for a relationship with anyone?"

"It was true! And I felt sorry for her, hanging round waiting for the idiot."

"I know, I know," Lily said placating. "I was just wondering why Remus was suddenly ready for a relationship two weeks later. You never did tell us."

James frowned, remembering the rather entertaining few weeks of that September, in their 6th Year.

"Sirius hit him with a pillow a few times."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Well, and we told him that he was being a stupid idiot, and if he was going to use the fact that he was a werewolf as an excuse for not asking out a girl who evidently liked him, and who he evidently liked in return, then that made him even more stupid than Peter, since if he kept not doing stuff 'cos of the werewolf thing, there was no point in him being alive."

"For a group of mentally challenged, hormone driven teenagers, that was surprisingly perceptive."

"Thank you. What bought this up all of a sudden?"

"I think he's using the same excuse again."

James's face lit up with glee. "He lied? He has got a girl hiding out somewhere?"

"I don't know." Lily shrugged. "But there's something going on. Did you see the look on his face when Tonks walked in?"

"Tonks? She's hardly out of Hogwarts! Remus is about as old fashioned as you get, he's not going to start lusting after someone nearly half his age!"

"So why've they been acting so oddly around each other then?"

"Maybe they hate each other. Maybe they had a massive bust up we know nothing about. Maybe it's not our business."

"Maybe you're a stuck up git, without a romantic bone in your body."

"That was underhand, Evans." James mock-snarled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No more than you deserved, Potter."

The tickling hex, rather usefully described on the page in front of her husband, hit Lily before she had time to react.

HTCHB

About a week before the two eldest Potter children were due to return to Hogwarts, the Potters went to Diagon Alley. Gemma and Jack were left with Cam and Mark, mainly due to the fact that this would be the first time the Potters would be seen in public in 20 years, and it was liable to cause a small riot.

Since one of the things on the list for shopping was floo powder, it was decided to drive to London, four Potters, Remus and Tonks all piling into the old jeep. They parked a few streets from the Leaky Cauldron, and walked there, enjoying their final moments of relative anonymity. As they walked into the pub, Harry grinned at the looks on his mum and dads faces – amazement tinged with recollection - and he was suddenly reminded of his first trip there. If someone had told him then that he'd be walking through those same doors 5 years later with his actual parents, he'd have laughed in their face. And yet, here he was.

Many of the people inside gave the Potters surreptitious looks over their drinks as they passed through, any conversation dying out all together in favour of a staring silence, and the moment they left a torrent of whispers broke out.

It had begun.

HTCHB

In the back yard, Jane watched in amazement as her father pulled out his wand and tapped the wall. The sight of so many staring people had shocked into a white faced, right lipped, wide-eyed silence, and the sight of a moving wall caused her to jump out of her skin. Tonks smiled down at her, taking a hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

As they stepped through the arch, Harry was instantly aware of everybody within ten feet of them turning and staring. He was used to it, but his parents and Jane shuffled nervously. It was going to be a long day.

It took them nearly an hour to get through Gingotts, where the security seemed to have upgraded by several notches since Harry's last visit. The goblins seemed wholly unconcerned by the fact that they were serving the "Family Who Lived", and so, on the one occasion where special treatment would have been much appreciated, it was denied.

As they left blinking in the sunlight, Harry took a better look at Diagon Alley. The bright window displays and cheerful posters that covered the shop fronts seemed, if anything, more exuberant than ever. Everything from Flourish and Blotts to Ewlops Owl Emporium seemed to be sporting new posters that flashed, glinted and gleamed in the watery sunlight.

Harry glanced at his parents, who also seemed amazed at the changed Diagon Alley. Lupin and Tonks, who had waited outside for them came over, looking strangely awkward with each other.

"Where first?" asked Lupin the moment the family were within earshot.

James looked at his wife.

"Flourish and Blotts." she said, looking at the nearby shop. "We might as well work our way down the street."

They emerged from the bookshop laden with heavy bags. A hush had fallen when they had entered, and the clerk serving them had been so awestruck that he had dropped the first book he got for them, and stuttered every time anyone spoke.

Next was Madam Malkins. Luckily, she was empty when they went in, and Madam Malkin herself seemed unfazed at serving either Potter.

In Ollivanders, the creepy little man had talked at length about James and Lily's wands before allowing Jane to try any, but the look on her face when she gripped the wand that chose her – 11 inches, holly, dragon heartstring and phoenix feather (Harry received several meaningful glances from Ollivander at that) – was well worth the lecture.

In the Apothecaries they bought some basic potion supplies for Jane, since Harry wasn't continuing with potions that year. Jane had spied the unicorn horns, arranged along the shelves, and it took some five minutes to drag her away. As they left, Lily consulted the list that had come with Jane's letter.

"Just need to get you your basic equipment now, Jane." she said, trying to ignore the stares of a family entering the shop behind them. "Cauldron, scales, telescope. And a cat basket for Scat."

The little girls face lit up.

"Scat can come with me?"

"If you want her too."

They were heading further down the street when Harry heard someone shout his name. He was about to turn round when he was nearly knocked to the ground by what appeared to be a mass of brown hair. A little way in front his parents, Jane, Tonks and Lupin turned just in time to see a tall bushy haired girl throw herself at Harry. She was pulled off by an even taller red haired boy, who grinned at Harry and hit him friendlily on the shoulder.

"Who are they?" Lily asked Lupin, who was grinning.

"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." he said, as though that was explanation enough for the two most important people in the teenagers life. Lily, however, nodded, and watched the teenagers in front of her. Greetings over, the two newcomers seemed to be questioning Harry closely, and the girl kept shooting curious glances towards where the Potters were standing. Eventually, Harry turned, and led them over to his parents.

"Mum, Dad," - Harry had slipped into the habit of referring to his parents as such sometime over the past week, and still had to subdue a grin of triumph every time he said it - "this is Ron and Hermione."

Hermione held out her hand, and Lily shook it.

"Its nice to meet you, Mrs. Potter." she said enthusiastically. "I was so pleased when Harry told us."

Next to her, Ron was shaking hands with James, looking a bit dazed at touching someone he'd believed to be dead for fifteen years.

"And this is Jane." finished Harry, indicating to his sister, who was trying to hide behind him.

"Hello." said Hermione brightly.

Jane blushed.

"'Lo." she said.

Ron turned to Harry.

"I thought you said you had a brother?" he asked curiously.

Harry nodded.

"I do. Gemma and Jack, they're staying with a neighbour."

Ron, never one to be distracted by anything below quidditch, moved onto more pressing matters.

"Have you seen Fred and Georges place yet?"

Harry shook his head.

"We're going now, it took us ages to persuade Mum to let us slip off while she finishes the shopping."

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked, noticing her absence for the first time.

"She had to have a fitting at Madam Malkins. She should be here in a moment."

Over Ron's shoulder, Harry caught glimpse of a blur of red hair.

"You two could of waited." Ginny Weasley grumbled as she jogged up. "Hello Harry. Are these your mum and dad?"

Harry nodded, and the introductions were made again.

"D'you wanna come with us?" Ron asked eagerly.

Harry looked at his mum and dad, who looked at each other, and then at Tonks and Lupin who were standing few feet away.

"I'll go with them." offered Tonks, guessing the reason for the Potters hesitation, and Lily nodded.

"Ok then. But take Jane with you. We'll meet you at the Leaky…"

But Harry was already following his friends. Ginny smiled at Jane.

"Come on." She said friendlily. "Lets catch up with them."

HTCHB

Harry and the others approached a heavily decorated shop front. Fred and George seemed to have made it their mission in life to outdo the bright colours of their neighbours, and had draped the two large windows with brilliantly coloured material, in front of which a great variety of gadgets and gizmos flew, danced, and, in some cases, exploded.

Grinning to himself Harry pushed his way inside. The shop was easily the most crowded in the street. Hogwarts students were crammed into the room; Harry saw his fellow sixth years Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan ogling a display case, while someone he vaguely recognised as a Ravenclaw chaser was covering his friends in purple goo.

Ron, who had been standing just behind Harry, let out an appreciative whistle.

"Its brilliant." he said with awe in his voice, as he and Harry moved along the shelves, examining the produce. Hermione was deeply absorbed in reading the back of a box labelled "Never-Ending Parchment", and Harry caught sight of Ginny, who was being shadowed by Jane, leafing through a selection of instruction sheets.

Feeling slightly guilty for abandoning Jane, Harry made his way over to them.

"There you are." grinned Ginny. "What do you think?"

"Its brilliant." said Harry, echoing Ron as he looked about.

"They really know their stuff, don't they?" said Hermione, who had followed Harry, a touch of admiration in her voice.

"Why, thank you." came a voice from behind Harry. He whizzed around to face Fred Weasley who grinned at him.

"Nice to see you Harry. I do hope your well." he said, in such a good imitation of Percy that Harry laughed.

"Ron told me all about your summer, of course." Fred continued, looking around Ginny to Jane, who seemed to have been stunned into silence by the presence of so much magic.

"Fred, this is Jane." said Ginny, stepping aside and pulling her forward. "Jane, this is one of my brothers, Fred. He runs this place. And that's George over there. He runs it too."

Jane smiled shyly up at Fred, who beamed at her.

"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked them all. Hermione nodded, still looking mildly impressed. Harry grinned at them.

"Its marvellous." he said.

"All thanks to you, my friend." beamed George, coming up behind Hermione. "Welcome to our world."

They spent a happy hour browsing through the shop. Eventually, Tonks, who had been just as immersed in the shop as the others, came up to them.

"We'd better go." she said, sounding reluctant.

They trooped out, pockets bulging. As they approached the Leaky Cauldron, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley looking about worriedly. When she saw them, she beamed and hurried towards them.

"Oh there you are, I was getting very worried. Hello Tonks dear, how are you? Harry, its lovely to see you. How was your summer? Well, I suppose I don't need to ask. Who's this?" Mrs Weasley was bought out of her monologue by the sight of Jane, who was standing in between Harry and Ginny.

"Hello Mrs Weasley." said Harry, smiling. "This is Jane, my sister."

Mrs. Weasley smiled distractedly at her.

"Hello my dear. It's lovely to meet you. Now, where are you headed Harry?"

"We're meeting my Mum and Dad in the Leaky Cauldron." said Harry proudly.

"Oh, yes, of course." said Mrs. Weasley, sounding slightly flustered. "Well, we're all done too."

Together, they walked back into the smoky interior of the Leaky Cauldron.

Lily, James and Lupin were sitting at a table when they entered – the rest of the pub seemed transfixed by their presence, and kept glancing at them over the tops of their drinks.

The adults stood up when they saw the group approaching them. Remus stepped forward to introduce Lily and James to Mr and Mrs Weasley – Mr Weasley had joined them as they entered the pub.

General handshaking and pleasantries were exchanged, before Mr Weasley forsook formalities all together and started grilling Lily.

"You were raised by Muggles, weren't you? I thought so."

Lily nodded, looking slightly bemused. Luckily, Mrs Weasley rescued her. ("She doesn't want to talk about that now Arthur")

"Hello." She said, still smiling, shaking Lily's hand. Lily smiled back, but Harry noticed Mrs. Weasley's smile seemed a little forced. Sighing, he pushed that worry to the back of his mind. He'd check everything was all right with Ron later.

HTCHB

It was late evening by the time they returned home. Cam had Gemma and Jack already in bed, and Lily, Jane and Harry followed them pretty quickly. James, however, stayed down in the sitting room, opening the window which faced into the courtyard, and settling down at the desk behind it with another spell book. Tonks and Remus had returned with them, but it was some moments before James's ears tuned into the conversation being held by the front door.

"No, Tonks." Remus's voice was quiet, insistent.

"Oh come on Remus, it's only a drink."

"It's nearly 11 at night!"

"Not now, you cretin. Tomorrow. I've got to go into the Ministry for a bit, paper work, so I'll be finished around 5 again."

"No Tonks."

"Why not? Its only a drink, we've done it before."

James's ears pricks – Remus, the liar!

"With other people there as well."

James's balloon of hope burst.

"Yeah, so?"

"Tonks, I've told you before. I'm too old, too poor, not to mention a werewolf."

"And I've told you that I don't care. Come on Remus, what's wrong with a couple of friends meeting up for a drink after work?"

"Nothing. But that's not what you want."

"Fine. I'll see you around, Remus."

The front door shut with a snap, and someone stormed up the stairs. A pop told James that Remus had disapparated, leaving him alone in the dark, stunned, and ever so slightly bemused.

He hated it when Lily was right.

* * *

Aww, bless 'em. Unrequited love. Kinda. Here's to hoping you've all enjoyed yourselves, and that Santa bought you just what you wanted!!! Bye!!!! Oh, and don't be offended if you don't get any review replies – until my email is up and running again, I can't access them! Sigh… 


	21. In Which Jane Wins a Lottery

Happy New Year, one and all!!!

This is, I think, quite possibly my longest chapter thus far, so appreciate it! Actually, I'm sort of cheating from about halfway through, as I've hit a point where the old HTCHB and the new one collide in terms of plot. So I'm having a lovely break with nothing more than cut and paste to do, with a few bits of editing. I'll enjoy it while it lasts!!!

My email, darn it, is still down, so review replies are still unavailable. However, hopefully it should be sorted soon, once my dad goes back to work and can re-load the programme.

But, thanks to a beautiful thing called "Stats", I have recently discovered that not only am I now over **_200_ **on the review count, and the highest number of hits of any of my stories!!! Making this my all time most successful story, ratings waise. So yey for that!

So thanks to all of you wonderful reviewers, and hopefully, by next week, I'll be able to thank you all by name again!

* * *

Jane spent the last week of the summer absorbed in her new books. She was giving Harry the cold shoulder again, rather pointedly turning her back every time he turned to speak to her. Girls were the one thing he couldn't even begin to understand. One minute she was his best friend, the next she was taking herself off to god knows where. 

The night before they were due to return to Hogwarts, she disappeared altogether. She was there at dinner, unusually quiet, but come Jacks bedtime she was no-where to be seen. Lily, at her wits end with trying to pack two children off to Hogwarts, fell into a rant about unhelpful children, while James, who had experience with this sort of thing, disappeared with his two youngest to their bedrooms. Harry, on the other hand, was on the hunt. He was fed up with the mood swings and the cold shoulder, and he was going to sort that out. Tonight.

Finding Jane wasn't nearly so hard as it sounded, when she had two houses and numerous attics and outhouses to hide in. Paddy, tongue lolling, was hungry, and since Jane was his feeder he was going to find her _now_. All Harry had to do was follow.

Paddy eventually stopped at the foot of a ladder in Cam's feed barn, looking up at it mournfully. Harry patted the dog, affectionately rubbing its ears.

"Thanks." he muttered, and started to climb.

Jane was sitting under the eaves, knees under her chin, staring out through the tiny window across the courtyard. The flattened patch of hay and pile of well-eared books hinted that this was a much used haunt.

She didn't seem to notice Harry until he settled down next to her, wincing slightly as the hay pierced his trousers and pricked at his legs.

"You alright?" asked Harry after a moment, when it became clear she wasn't going to talk.

Jane looked pale, and her hand was trembling. She half nodded, then thought about it, and shook her head.

"I'm scared." she whispered.

Harry smiled gently.

"Of going to Hogwarts?" he asked.

Jane nodded.

"Don't be." Harry said comfortingly.

"Were you scared?" Jane asked, curiosity pushing aside both her fear and her current dislike of her brother. Harry thought back to his first ride on the Hogwarts express.

"Not scared, so much." he said thoughtfully. "I wasn't sure what to expect, and so I was a bit nervous. But I was more pleased about leaving the Dursleys. Wherever I was going had to be better than what I was leaving behind."

Jane grinned a little, but then her fear seemed to return.

"But what if people don't like me?" she asked in a small voice.

Harry had to bite back a laugh. It had been a long time since he had thought of things like that.

"I can't promise everyone will like you." he said, hiding a smile. "I can think of some people who might not like you, if only because you're my sister. But lots of people will like you. Ron and Hermione did, and Ginny, and there will be lots of other people too."

Jane visibly brightened, and turned away from the window properly for the first time.

"And you'll be there too, won't you." she said happily.

Harry smiled. "I thought you didn't like me at the moment." he teased.

Jane frowned. "I don't know. You're strange."

"Thanks."

"No, I mean it. Strange strange. You know all this stuff that doesn't exist. Or didn't exist."

"You'll be learning about it too, though."

"Yeah."

Neither spoke for a while, the silence stretching between them like a blanket.

"I always thought you were a girl." offered Jane at last, half to herself.

"What?" Harry started, caught off guard by the strange comment.

"When mum and dad told us about the child that was lost, I always thought it'd be a girl. Older sister."

"Oh. Sorry."

She shrugged. "Not your fault."

"Is that why you don't like me?" Harry hazarded after a moment.

"Who says I don't like you?" The girl seemed truly shocked by this statement.

"You do. Or you sort of act like it."

"Well you act odd round me, too."

"You flat out ignore me!"

"Well sorry for being a bit bemused by the whole thing!"

"You could at least talk to me."

"I am!"

"Yeah, telling me you wished I was a girl."

"Well that's the truth!"

"Well stop saying well at the start of every sentence."

"I'm not!"

"Are too."

"Stupid."

"Shorty."

"Four eyes."

"Squirt."

Both grinned, albeit rather reluctantly.

"You know, we sound worryingly like mum and dad." said Jane with a sigh. "I'm turning into my parents at the age of 11."

"Worse things have happened."

"I suppose."

Silence fell, a more comfortable, companionable silence than the previous.

"Jane?" Harry ventured after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"That night, when the dementor came. What did you remember?"

She blinked, and looked surprised.

"How'd you know I remembered anything?"

"That's what dementors do. Make you relive the worst moments of your life over and over again."

"If I tell you, will you tell me?"

"Yeah."

"Kay. I was about five, maybe six. I couldn't even remember it before the other night. We were in some supermarket somewhere, and it was really busy. And suddenly, I was all on my own, and mum had disappeared and left me. I thought Id been abandoned, all alone forever and ever." She shuddered again at the memory. "What about you?"

"I remember the night I thought mum and dad died." Harry said softly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"S'not your fault."

"I know. But I'm still sorry."

They sat in silence for a while, comfortable for a while in each other's company.

"I don't hate you." said Jane suddenly. "I just…I dunno. I'm the eldest. Or I was. I did everything first, knew more than the other two. But now you do instead. It's weird."

"It's a bit weird for me, too." said Harry with a grin. "The closest thing I've ever had to a family before now were my friends."

"I liked your friends." Jane said, conversationally. "They were funny."

Harry grinned. "I like them too."

"Is Hermione your girlfriend?" she asked with great curiosity.

Harry laughed.

"No." he said, still chuckling. "She's just my friend."

Jane nodded; this statement seemed to warrant deep thought.

"I think it'll be alright." she decided after a while, making Harry smile yet again at her odd way of speech.

He frowned suddenly, remembering something from his own first few weeks at Hogwarts.

"Jane, for the first few weeks a lot of people will be very interested in you."

"In me? Why?"

"Because nobody knew you existed until a few days ago. You and me are going to be subjects of great interest for a while."

Jane went pale again, and Harry smiled comfortingly.

"Don't worry." he added. "It will die down, just ignore it. I just thought a warning would help."

Jane nodded tightly.

Harry sat in silence for a while, lost in his own thoughts. What would it be like back at Hogwarts? he wondered to himself. There was going to be a lot of mutterings and whisperings, he knew. He was used to that. Not only did everyone now know he had been telling the truth, but he had the discovery of his family and the defeat of Voldemort thrown in as well. It would be the first time half the whispers directed his way were about something that made him happy, most likely the last. Best enjoy it while he had it.

HTCHB

The next morning found the Potters once more packed into the car, with two trunks, an owl and six people. A woeful Cam had been left with Gemma and Jack, since the Ministry had demanded Tonks accompany them, and there simply was not a car big enough to hold six Potters, two Jones's, one Lupin and one Tonks.

Lily, irritable at both the chaos of packing and the loss of her two eldest children, had sighed heavily when the insistence of Tonks accompanying them came through.

"Not that we don't love having you here." she assured the auror. "But honesty, surly the aurors would be much better placed hunting down the Death Eaters than protecting us from an unlikely attack in the middle of London on the one day of the year when it's packed with wizards and witches."

James rolled his eyes at Remus behind Lilys back – the morning had been hectic, and had reawakened Lilys famed temper.

"You be careful Prongs." cautioned Remus with a grin. "Remember what happened last time you aggravated her on September 1st. And that was when she had only herself to get on the train."

James snorted. "Hey, I was not aggravating her. I was simply being my usual friendly self."

Luckily, a further argument was waylaid by the radio newsreader announcing it was half ten, causing Lily to gasp in horror and peer out of the car windscreen in disgust.

"I hate September 1st."

HTCHB

Harry and Lupin went through the platform divide first, pushing the two trolleys. Lily, holding tight to Jane's hand followed then, James and Tonks joining them a moment later.

Jane was gazing up at the Hogwarts express with a mixture of fear and excitement. Around them, people bustled about, loading luggage on and off trolleys, conducting last minute checks and generally being to occupied in carting one or more children of to school to notice the arrival of the Potters.

Perhaps there was a god after all.

Suddenly, there was a cry from further along the platform.

"Harry! Jane!" Hermione was pushing her way along the platform, followed by Ron, Ginny, and Mr and Mrs Weasley. When they reached Harry, Hermione beamed.

"I can't tell you how odd it's been without you." she said, the words tumbling breathlessly out of her mouth.

Ron came up behind her and grinned. "All right Harry?"

Harry grinned back. "Hey Ron."

Next to him, Ginny was greeting Jane. Over Hermiones shoulder, Harry could see Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley having already come forward to try and talk to Lily about Muggles.

Mrs Weasley smiled distractedly at him.

"Hello Harry dear." she said. "We missed having you over the summer." It was a strangely cold greeting from the normally vibrant Mrs Weasley, and it made Harry wonder.

At that moment, the whistle blew, and chaos resumed. Hugs all round - Lily squeezed her son for a moment, then released him, while James grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. Lupin did the same, and Tonks waved merrily before hugging Jane with the affection of one who has spent far too much time in someone's company.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to fight some sort of inner battle, before, with a glance at Lily, giving Harry a quick hug. Then the whistle blew again, and the two sets of parents started chivvying their children towards the train. Lugging their trunks onboard, they leaned out the window to wave goodbye. Harry's last sight before the train gathered speed and rounded the corner was of his mum and Mrs Weasley turning to talk to each other.

HTCHB

Pulling his head in, Harry turned to the others. Ron and Hermione smiled apologetically.

"We won't be too long." promised Hermione, and they headed for the Prefects compartment.

"Come on." said Ginny, tugging at her trunk. "Lets find somewhere to sit."

As the three of them started up the train, Harry became very aware of the fact that every time they passed a compartment, the occupants would stare as they passed, noses pressed to the windows. Several times people actually came out of their compartments to get a better look.

Eventually, having walked along almost half the train, they found a compartment whose only occupant was a small first year with golden-blond hair and brown eyes, clutching a grey kitten. She looked up as Ginny opened the door.

"Can we sit here?" Ginny asked the girl kindly, who nodded, looking terrified. Harry followed Ginny in, dumped his trunk in the luggage rack and helped Jane do the same. The girl huddled into a corner, as though she were trying to disappear completely. Ginny sat down opposite her.

"First year?" she asked, smiling gently.

The girl nodded again.

"Jane's new too." Ginny continued, indicating to Jane, who had sat gingerly next to the girl. They exchanged nervous looks.

"I'm Ginny." continued Ginny, still striving bravely for conversation. "And this is Harry."

Harry smiled at the girl, who looked, if anything, even more terrified. She glanced from Jane to Harry, but said nothing.

"What's your name?" asked Ginny, determined to hear the girl speak.

"Izzy." she said in a barely audible whisper.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak again, probably about the cat, when the compartment door opened. Neville peered nervously inside.

"Hi, Harry, Ginny. Can we sit here?" he asked, and Harry saw Luna standing behind him.

"Sure." said Ginny, and the two came in.

"Neville, Luna, this is my sister, Jane, and that's Izzy." Harry said, beginning the first of many introductions.

Neville's eyes almost popped out of his head as he looked at Jane, who smiled back at him; the presence of another terrified first year seemed to have calmed her nerves.

Luna looked dreamily at them both.

"Hello." she said serenely, before opening the copy of the Quibbler she was clutching, and disappearing behind it. Neville was still gazing at Jane.

"Did you have a good summer?" Ginny asked, trying to distract him as Jane shuffled uncomfortably under his gaze. It worked - Neville grinned, and turned away from Jane. He, Harry and Ginny spent a pleasant while discussing OWLs and Quidditch, when the compartment door opened again, and Ron and Hermione flopped down on the seats. They were followed a moment later by the trolley lady. Even Luna put down the Quibbler and dived into the mound of food that everyone bought. Only Izzy, who had been sitting quietly in the corner talking to Jane, didn't touch the it.

"Here, Izzy, have a chocolate frog." said Hermione, who had been introduced to the girl by Ginny. Izzy took the sweet and put it carefully in her mouth, almost as though she expected it to explode before she ate it. Harry wondered if she was Muggle-born.

After that, though, she seemed to gain confidence, and readily helped them finish off the cauldron cakes and liquorice wands that Neville had bought.

They were moving onto Hermione's Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans when the door slid open for the fourth time. This time, however, the people standing in the doorway weren't nearly so welcome. Malfoy looked about with a sneer.

"Well well well." he scorned. "The Potty, the Weasel, Longbottom and the Loony." His gaze fell scornfully onto each of them. "Another Weasley and…the Mudblood." he finished, with a contemptuous glance. Harry, Ginny and Ron leapt to their feet, Neville gasped and even Luna looked up from her magazine.

"Get out Malfoy." said Ron through gritted teeth. Crabbe and Goyle, standing either side of Malfoy, cracked their knuckles threateningly.

Malfoy smirked.

"Wait a moment, Weasel-head." he said. "There's a rumour going up the train that Potty's got a sister in here. I came to see if that's true."

His gaze fell on Jane, who was sitting in the corner.

"Leave her alone Malfoy." warned Harry.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"In a moment. Surely I can have a quick word." Ignoring the glares of the others, Malfoy addressed himself to Jane.

"On our first trip on the Hogwarts Express, I made your brother an offer. He, rather stupidly, turned it down. So I'll give you the same offer. My cousin is starting this year as well. You won't know this, but some wizarding families are better than others. I can't blame you for sitting here; you know no different. But Claudia," he stepped aside to reveal what looked like a smaller, female version of himself, "is more than willing to teach you the difference."

He looked at Jane, and the girl called Claudia held out a hand. Harry was desperately restraining himself from interfering – slapping the blonde girls hand away right about now seemed like a good idea - but a warning glance from Hermione stilled him. Jane had to make her own choice.

Everybody seemed to be holding their breath. Jane looked Claudia up and down, then turned to Malfoy.

"I think I can tell the difference already." she said quietly. "You come in here, where no-one likes you, and insult my brother and the nicest people I have met in a long time, and you still expect me to be friends with you? Sorry. Try a different compartment, and a different method of buying friends for your cousin."

And she promptly turned her back on the door, and continued her chat with Izzy. Malfoy and his cousin both went red, and mouths were just opening for a retort when he spied Izzy for the first time.

"You." he said, and his voice was suddenly filled with a hatred that even Harry had never heard before.

"What are you doing in here? Mixing with Mudbloods and Blood-traitors? I never thought even you could stoop so low."

And with a final glare, he turned tail and marched off. Claudia followed, flicking her long, pale blond hair over her shoulder. Ron slammed the door shut behind them, narrowly avoiding shattering the glass. Everyone turned to look at Izzy, apart from Luna, who returned to the Quibbler.

"What was that all about?" asked Ginny, but Izzy simply shook her head and clutched her cat again. After a moment's scrutiny, everyone turned to Jane.

"Did you really mean that?" asked Hermione, hugging her. Jane had gone red, but she nodded defiantly.

"I meant it. You are the nicest people I've ever met." Neville blushed, and Ginny and Ron beamed. Luna looked up from the Quibbler.

"You are very nice." she informed them, before disappearing back behind its pages.

Jane beamed as though she'd just won the lottery.

* * *

And there you have it!

Next week...a sorting, several shocks, and a new DADA teacher...all is not as it seems...

Until then!


	22. In Which Surprises Occur

So it's January…the days are short, Christmas, New Year, and the parties that come with them are over…there's nothing good on the TV anymore, you're heading back to school or work…did you know that 24th January is officially the most depressing day of the year?

Ya, I get gloomy this time of year. Plus, one of my best friends moves to New Zealand three weeks today. But, on the bright side, out friends from Guersney are all coming up the weekend before. So life goes on.

Again, not happy with this chapter, still copying and pasting, yadda yadda yadda.

Aplogies once more about review reply problem – while my email system is once again working, the fanfiction email system now isn't! Which you may well have realised! So I can only give my heartfelt thanks to you asll as a whole, and cross my fingers that next week, everything will be back to normal.

Enjoy!

* * *

The journey continued without further incident. The sky outside darkened, they changed into their school robes, and before too long they rounded the final corner before the station, and Hogmeade came into view. The train slowed and finally stopped, and the corridors were filled with people pushing and shoving their way off the train.

Out on the platform, Harry saw the familiar shape of Hagrid in the distance.

"Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here!"

Harry gave Jane, who had decided to become a limpet, a gentle shove in his direction.

"Go on." he said, as she hung back, uncertain. "Go _on_. Hagrid's fine, he's a friend of mine. I'll see you inside."

With a final glance behind them, Jane and Izzy made their way nervously towards the giant man. Harry, Ron and Hermione pushed their way towards the carriages, Harry still trying to ignore the stares and mutterings that seemed to be increasing every moment. They stumbled into a carriage, and were soon joined by Neville, clutching Trevor the Toad, and Luna, clutching the Quibbler. Then, with a jolt, they were off, heading towards Hogwarts. Towards home.

Harry followed Hermione and Ron as they headed for the Gryffindor table, where hey joined Seamus, Dean and Ginny. Harry was trying desperately to ignore the fact that some people were standing up on their benches to get a better look at him when Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil sat opposite them, and wasted no time in putting their feet in it.

"So, Harry. All that stuff about you in the _Prophet_ over the summer. Which bits were true?" asked Lavender with curiosity.

Harry was trying to work out how to answer this question when Parvati intervened.

"Like that stuff about your parents?" she added eagerly.

"That was true." Harry conceded, and to his great relief further questioning was cut off by the arrival of Hagrid at the teacher's table. He grinned, waved and winked at Harry as the doors were thrown open, and Professor McGonagall marched in, leading a straggling line of first years. The hall fell silent as the stool with the Sorting Hat on it was bought forward. Harry could see Jane eyeing it warily, while Izzy seemed more interested in the ceiling. Throughout the song, various first years would shiver nervously, examining their surroundings with eyes narrowed in distrust.

The song ended, and the Hall broke out in applause. Then Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

"Anthurpurusha, Prajack" was first: a tall, Indian boy with black hair who was sne to Ravenclaw.

"Allen, Molly." A small girl with wild brown hair wrestled back into pigtails hurried forward. The hat seemed to consider for a moment, then called out

"GRIFFYNDOR."

Harry applauded with the rest of the table as Molly hurried over and sat a few places down from Lavender.

"Blomfield, Henry", a tall, lanky boy with pale skin and large eyes stumbled towards .

"HUFFLEPUFF", followed closely by "Bonham, Sam".

And then came the first surprise of the evening.

"Chang, Charlie"

Harry looked up to see a small boy with dark hair and glasses put the hat almost gingerly on his head. Glancing over to the Ravenclaw table, Harry saw Cho beaming as her brother sat on the stool. A moment later, and "GRYFINNDOR" shouted the hat.

Harry clapped with the rest as Charlie hurried over, and sat opposite Molly Allen, a few places down from Harry.

Next came "Cooper, Martin", "Evans, Susan", "Fairclough, Ann", "Griffiths, Mark", "Hughes, Claire", and "Lambert, Ellie". As each name was sorted, the first years would run shakily to the respective table.

Then came "Malfoy, Claudia."

The girl from the train swaggered up to the stool, and sat on it with the air of a queen surveying her subjects. The hat had barely touched her head when it cried "SLYTHERIN", and she waltzed off to join her cousin, smirking spuriously.

And then it was time for surprise number two.

"Malfoy, Clarissa" was called, and after a moments pause, the small, blond haired girl who had called herself Izzy stumbled forward dejectedly. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione in amazement. Ron had raised his eyebrows, and Hermione looked shocked, while Ginny was staring with her mouth half open at the girl as she sat nervously on the stool. Harry looked over at Jane, but the side of her face that he could see showed no reaction. He wondered if Izzy had already told her.

The hat took a while with the second Malfoy. Looking over at the Slytherins, Harry saw that Malfoy and Claudia were both glaring at their cousin/sister, as if daring her not to be in Slytherin. And then the hat announced the night's third surprise.

"GRYFINNDOR".

For a moment, there was a stunned silence. A Malfoy? In Gryfinndor? Then Ginny started clapping, and everyone else joined in, if a little half-heartedly.

Chancing another glace at the Slytherins, Harry saw Malfoy looking as though someone had just force-fed him Bubotuber Pus. Grinning, Harry nudged Ron and nodded his head at Malfoy. Ron smirked, and turned to watch "McMahon, Henry", "Neal, Kristin", "Nelder, Olivia", "Norwood, Adam" "Parry, Chris", and "Parry, Edward" get sorted.

Then, at last, it was "Potter, Jane". The muttering in the hall increased in volume, as people craned their necks to stare at either Harry or Jane. The hat paused for a moment, before shouting "GRYFINNDOR". Harry joined in the wild applause as Jane, blushing fiercely, came over and sat in between Izzy and Charlie Chang. Harry grinned at her, and she grinned back, before the turn of "Purnell, Carl", "Vernon, Katherine", "Walker, Christina", "Wilkins, Donna", "Williams, Rachel", and "Winter, Janet" rounded off the sorting.

Rolling up the scroll, Professor McGonagall marched off with the Sorting Hat and its stool. Chatter broke out once more, and Harry started eyeing the empty plates hopefully. The trolley seemed a long time ago. Dumbledore stood, and the hall fell silent once more.

"Welcome." he said "To another year. I won't bore you yet with long speeches. Instead, a short one. Enjoy!"

Harry leaned forward and heaped roast potatoes onto his plate. He could see Molly Allen eyeing the plate of mint humbugs with mild disbelief. On his left, Jane, Charlie and Izzy were already heaping their plates, chatting animatedly to the other new Gryffindor. Smiling slightly, Harry turned to talk to Ron and Hermione. He was aware that several people were trying desperately to engage him in conversation about the Department of Mysteries, family life and other such matters that had flooded the _Prophet_ over the summer, but he ignored them, instead discussing the recent Ministry upheavals with Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus, whose mum also worked in the ministry.

But as the dishes wiped clean, and the puddings appeared, their talk turned, as it inevitably would, to Voldemort. Harry had a mouthful of treacle tart when Dean said, "I was surprised to see so many people missing."

Harry coughed and nearly choked. Ron banged him on the back, and then turned to Dean.

"What do you mean, missing?" he asked.

Dean shrugged.

"Parents don't want their children too far away from home. I guessed here might be some missing, but not this many."

Harry looked about, and sure enough there were a few gaps on the benches, as though friendship groups were missing members.

"But Voldemort's gone!" cried Ron incredulously, and Dean shrugged again.

Seamus shook his head.

"That's what I told me mam, but she's still not happy. Something about 'they said he was gone before, and look what happened then!'"

Ron groaned sympathetically. Their talk continued for some while, discussing the deaths that had been reported, the unconfirmed sightings of the still rogue Death Eaters. Harry noticed they were all being careful to steer clear of the Department of Mysteries, and he was grateful.

The remainders of the puddings disappeared, leaving the plates as sparkling as they had been before the feast, and Dumbledore got once more to his feet. He surveyed them all for a moment, and then spoke.

"I have already welcomed you to yet another year at Hogwarts. Before we all retire to our beds, I do have a few important notices to give out. Firstly – first years should note that the Forest in the grounds is strictly out of bounds, as is the village of Hogsmeade for those below the third year. Secondly, it gives me great pleasure to introduce Professor Bassey, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

A tall, willowy woman with brown skin, long deep brown hair and bright grey eyes, stood and smiled as the hall applauded.

"She doesn't look like she'd be up to much." hissed Ron as they applauded. "Couple of good curses max."

"That's what you said about Lupin, remember?" scolded Hermione. "And besides, look at Ginny."

"Finally," Dumbledore toned over the applause, "anyone interested in playing for their house quidditch team see their head of house. We are also in need of new commentators. Anyone interested should do the same. Now, as I know it is your great wish to be well rested for tomorrow's lessons, bed! Of you pop."

The deafening sound of benches being scrapped back filled the hall. Hermione stood, and called authoritivly down the bench "First-years! First-year Gryffindor! Follow me, please." A crowd of nervous looking first years followed Jane apprehensively towards Hermione and out the Hall, Ron and Harry trailing after them.

Up the stairs, through the corridors and finally through the portrait hole (Pineapple), and they were in the Gryffindor Common Room. A quick good night to Jane, then up the winding staircase into the dormitory.

And Harry was home.

He had a home, back with his parents and the twins. And he had Hogwarts. Harry wondered, as he climbed into his four-poster bed, how many people before him had discovered a home inside Hogwarts walls. And how many of them had had homes they loved to return to as well? Once Harry would have been almost jealous of their luck – two places they could call their own, where they were loved and wanted. Now, as he punched his pillow and rolled over, he merely added himself to their number.

HTCHB

The next morning, Ron and Harry dragged themselves down to breakfast. The ceiling of the Great Hall was pale blue, with the occasional clouds chasing each other. As they tucked into the sausage and eggs in front of them, Hagrid walked past on his way up to the teacher's table.

"All righ', you two?" he called as he passed. "Met your sister las' night, Harry. Shy little thing. I'll see you later, anyway. Firs' lessons straight after lunch." And with a cheery wave, he was gone. From the look on Ron's face, Harry guessed they were both experiencing the same sinking feeling.

"You're not doing Care of Magical Creatures, are you?" said Ron hoarsely. Harry shook his head.

"Nor's Hermione." he added.

Harry stifled a groan. What Hagrid would say when he realised his three favourite students had quit his subject, Harry didn't want to know.

They were bought to of this miserable speculation by Professor McGonagall making her way up the table giving out timetables. This took much longer than usual this year, as each 6th year had to be cleared of getting the required O.W.L.s before being given their new lesson times. Hermione, of course, was instantly cleared for all her chosen subjects, and disappeared immediately for Arithmacy. Neville was proving more of a problem, but eventually headed off with a complete timetable in his bag.

"Lets see now…Potter." Professor McGonagall peered at Harry's application form over her glasses. "Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, all fine. But why not potions? I thought you wanted to become an Auror, Potter."

Harry nodded.

"I did Professor, but you told me I had to get an Outstanding O.W.L."

Professor McGonagall nodded, and pursed her lips.

"I did. And that is true. Well, we'll have to see. Here you are Potter."

She tapped the blank timetable with her wand, and moved on to Ron. Harry watched her, his mind only half present. What had she meant, "We'll have to see"? Was she remembering the promise from last year – that she would coach him night and day to see that he got the necessary results? Somehow, Harry doubted Professor McGonagall would be able to persuade Snape to teach his most loathed student without the required O.W.L.

He was bought out of his thoughts by Ron's excited voice.

"Excellent. We've got a free period now…and before _and_ after lunch…and last thing this afternoon. Only one lesson today!" His finger tracing the timetables columns, Ron beamed at Harry. "I can't believe we get free periods this year. That is so cool."

Harry grinned. "Yeah. But I bet we get loads of homework too."

Ron's grin faded a little, but then perked up again.

"Ahh well, we've got the extra time to do it in, too. It's like a circle – More homework, more time. Something like that." Ron shrugged, and Harry turned round to where Jane was sitting, a few places away, with the other Gryffindor first years., pouring over the timetable she had just been given. Sensing her brothers' gaze, she looked up.

"Lets have a look." Harry said, and Jane slid up the bench and passed him the paper. Harry scanned it.

"Charms, Herbology, Tranfiguration, Double Potions." he read aloud from the Monday column.

Ron peered round to have a look.

"Well, it could be worse." he said to Jane.

"Yeah. Pity about Potions though." added Harry.

"Why?" asked Jane

"Well…" Harry searched for the right words. "You remember the other night; I told you that there'd be some people who won't like you because you're my sister? Well, Snape, the Potion teacher, he's one of them. Watch out for him."

Jane nodded seriously.

"And you've got it with the Slytherins." said Ron, still reading the timetable. "Be prepared for hours of fun and enjoyment, Jane. Snape, the Slytherins and the Gryffindors are a match made in heaven."

Jane took back her timetable, laughing. She swung herself over the bench, and disappeared out the hall with Izzy and a boy Harry recognised as being Cho's little brother. As they left, Ginny appeared on Ron's other side.

"That was mean, Ron." she scolded, helping herself to the remains of his toast.

"What? I'm just preparing them." Ron said defensively.

Ginny sighed, and disappeared in the same direction as Jane, long ginger hair swinging behind her. Harry suddenly found himself unexplainably interested in the way her hair swung just _so _with each stepand shook himself in horror. Had he just thought that? About Ginny? Who was, by friendship, practically a sister?

Feeling profoundly grateful Ron couldn't perform Legilumus, he headed back to the Gryfinndor Common room. It was empty, apart from a small group of seventh years including Katie Bell, the last remaining member of the original team Harry had joined in his first year. She came over, and beamed when she saw the badge pinned to his robes.

"I knew you would have got that!" she squealed. "Tell me when you decide to hold the trials."

Harry laughed.

"Oh come on, I've watched you play for the past five years. You don't need a trial."

But Katie shook a finger warningly.

"Don't start like that. Better teams than ours have been ruined by Captains playing the same faces again and again, putting on their friends instead of rooting out new talent."

Ron looked uncomfortable as he and Harry settled in armchairs, but Harry was preoccupied by other thoughts. Seeing Katie had bought home to him the dilapidated state of his old team. To most others, of course, the Quidditch team changes were part of yearly life at Hogwarts. But Harry realised that he still thought of his original team as the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He supposed that each year's players left their own mark on the team, and with a grin he wondered whether he had inherited Oliver's speech making skill. Still, it was a despondent thought. Harry wondered if it were possible to re-build the team to as it had been during his third year.

An hour later, Harry and Ron left the comfort of the Common Room and headed for their first lesson – Defence Against the Dark Arts. They queued up outside the classroom with considerable curiosity. Hermione joined them as the bell rang, clutching three books and her bulging bag.

"Professor Vector gave us so much homework." she sighed, indicating to the books. "I wonder what this new Professor will be like?"

"Well, she can't be any worse than Umbridge." said Ron, trying to peer ahead of the line. The door opened suddenly, and the tall figure of Professor Bassey appeared.

"Enter." she said, holding the door open. The class filed in, with the usual sidelong glances and silence of a class assessing a new teacher. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at a desk in the front row, Neville sliding in next to Harry, and Ernie Macmillan on the row behind. Professor Bassey strode to the front of the class, and looked at them silently for a moment. The class looked back, waiting for her to speak. For a few moments, a sort of silent contest seemed to be going on between class and teacher.

Suddenly, she smiled.

"Well." she said, still looking at them. "This bodes well. Professor Umbridge described this year's class as being "highly disruptive" in the report she wrote me. But then, she and I may have different ideas on disruptiveness."

The class shifted uncomfortably in their seats as Professor Bassey continued to gaze down at them.

"Now, I understand that you have had five teachers in this subject so far, am I right?"

A few people nodded.

"Good. I have read the progress reports issued at the end of each year by your teachers, and can see your teaching has been rather hap-hazard at best." She picked up a pile of papers from her desk and started refilling through them.

"From what I can gather, your best teaching went on during your third and fourth years, yes?"

More nodding.

"Last years teacher, Professor Umbrindge, seems to have particularly disliked you all, but apart from that she mentioned very little of what she actually taught you."

Now Professor Bassey was looking at them expectantly.

Hermione, ever obliging, raised her hand.

"Yes? Miss, er…"

"Granger, Hermione Granger. Professor Umbridge didn't teach us anything." Hermione said very fast.

Several people nodded and muttered in agreement. Professor Bassey merely raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Yet you all received at least an Exceeds Expectations in your OWLs?"

There were more mutterings, and several wary glances in Harry's direction. Then Dean Thomas spoke from behind Ron.

"Hermione's right, Umbridge didn't reach us anything. Lupin and Moody are the only two good teachers we've ever had in this subject, and Moody turned out to be a Death Eater."

"Quite. But that does still not explain how you all received such good grades despite the fact you insist your last teacher taught you nothing. I can hardly believe you all passed on two years teaching alone."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This teacher was very shrewd, he decided. She knew there was more than what she was being told – she might even already know everything anyway. But someone was going to have to tell her. She was being very clever, not giving them any founding for what she would think of their answer. And then Dean raised his hand again. He had cracked.

"That was because of Harry, Professor."

Professor Bassey looked steadily at Dean. "What do you mean, 'Because of Harry', Mr…?"

"Thomas, and Harry taught us the spells and stuff in the DA."

"Yeah. If it weren't for the DA none of us would have passed." Came Lavender Browns voice.

Professor Bassey was looking interested.

"This story, I must admit, ties in well with what a group of fifth years told me last lesson. However, this lesson I realise I have the person responsible for all of this in my class."

And her gaze found Harry.

* * *

Ok, a bit of an abrupt ending, I know. Basically, this chapter and the next one were originally one, but it ended up being 15 pages in total. So I decided to split them, and this was the best place to do so.

Next week….an interesting DADA lesson, the first years encounter Snape, and Ron gets put out.

Review!!!


	23. In Which School Begins

Monday again! They roll around so quickely…

And, joy of joys, the fanfic alert system seems to be back on its feet! Be happy! As happy as I was to receive the following peoples thoughts:

**Lady Potter of Tortall, dingohart, PHEONIX39, flower123, krl25, Nessa19, Knighton, Wildphire, Len87, ballerinadoll9, seikinoko, Len87, VFPC **and **Kylara Kitsune.**

Lots of theories on Izzy coming out, all shall be revelaed in time! Enjoy!

* * *

"Is all that I have been told true?" she asked quietly, eyes fixed on him.

"I don't know, Professor." said Harry evenly. "It depends what you have been told."

Hermione hissed sharply – to Snape, that would have been taken as cheek, with a years worth of detention slapped upon the perpetrator.

Professor Bassey, however, merely smiled again. "A good answer. Is it true that you started a group called the DA?"

"No. Hermione started it, it was her idea."

"But you were the leader? You taught it?"

"Yes."

"Well then, it would seem fit that you tell me who was in it, and what you taught them. I was quite angrily told only this morning that I was wasting my time trying to teach the fifth years shield charms, as much of the class could already do them. To save myself from another assault from Miss. Weasley, could you tell me whom you taught and what you taught them?"

Harry glanced over at Hermione. "I don't know, Professor."

But Hermione nodded. "It's alright." she whispered. "I took the charm off the parchment once we got disbanded."

Harry nodded, and turned back to Professor Bassey.

"Hermione's got a list of those that were in the DA."

"Would it be possible for me to have a copy?" the Professor asked, and Hermione beamed with helpfulness.

"Of course. I've still got it in my trunk." she said.

"And what did you teach them?" the Professor asked, pulling a sheet of parchment and a quill towards her.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember.

"Shield Charms." he began. "The reductor curse, the Impediment jinx, expelliarmous…"

He continued on, listing the jinx's and curses he had taught the DA last year, with occasional help from some of the others in the class.

"And Patronus'." Harry finished.

Professor Bassey looked up from the parchment she'd been scribbling on.

"I'm impressed." she said quietly. She looked around the rest of the class. "Who in here was part of the DA?" she asked, and the majority of the class raised their hands.

"Good, good." she mused, half to herself, tapping her lip thoughtfully with a finger.

"Well." she said at last. "Seeing as how there are obviously some very ranged abilities in here, I think the best thing to do is a few short tests, just so I can see for myself where you're all up to."

And so they spent the rest of the lesson answering questions on anything from Boggarts to jinxes, while Professor Bassey called them into another room one at a time and tested them on various spells and jinxes.

Harry entered the back room a little nervously – this was, after all, an unknown entity, nice as she seemed.

"Mr Potter." she smiled a greeting at him. "If you could begin with a Reductor curse please. The table over there should do."

And so it went on, various jinxes and curses flying around the room.

"And…are you able to conjure a Patronus with no Dementor around?"

Harry grinned. "Better than when there is." he said with a shrug, raising his wand. "Expecto Patroum!"

The stag leapt into the room, gazing around through silver eyes. The woman gasped ever so slightly, her eyes tracing the stag's outline with an eager stare that was slightly unnerving.

She pulled herself together as the creature faded.

"Thank you. I wonder, Mr Potter…who taught you the patronus?"

"Professor Lupin did, Professor, back in my third year."

"I see. That was impressive, to master such a complex spell so young."

"Erm...thank you."

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

"Harry, I am very impressed. The people who say you taught them are all of an extremely high standard. You should be very proud of yourself – you're a good teacher. Send in Mr. Weasley, please."

As he left, Harry was certain that he saw her, just for a moment, gazing at the spot where the stag had stood with an almost sorrowful expression. It was only when he was back in the classroom that he realised she had called him Harry.

HTCHB

They left the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom as the bell rang, discussing the new teacher.

"I liked her." Hermione said firmly. "She was nice, and she knew what she was talking about. And she listened to what we had to say."

"She was alright." agreed Ron. "But there's something weird about her."

"Yeah." Harry, frowning slightly. "There was something…off."

"Off?" Ron gaped at him.

"Yeah. Like you said. Weird."

Hermione looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"She called me Harry."

"So? It's your name." Ron blinked at his best friend, confused.

"Yeah. But she was calling me Mr Potter at first. And did she call you Ron? The only teachers who have ever called me Harry are Lupin and Dumbledore."

"It will be interesting to see how she teaches." said Hermione thoughtfully. "And what she teaches."

"Don 't worry about it mate." Ron added cheerfully, seeing his friend's still worried look. "You're Harry Potter, bound to cause a few people to act a bit oddly around you. Remember Flitwick in our first charms?"

Harry nodded half-heartedly. "Yeah. You're probably right."

But as they headed for the great hall, Harry couldn't help but think that Ron had never been more wrong in his life.

HTCHB

Harry was half way through his pie when Jane appeared and flopped next to them. He grinned at her.

"Had a good morning?" Hermione asked, leaning forward.

Jane smiled.

"It's been really good. Professor Flitwick made this girls rat fly, and Professor McGonagall turned her desk into a cow. Can you turn your desk into a cow?"

She looked at her brother expectantly.

Harry laughed. "I doubt it. Hermione probably could."

Jane nodded. "And some older kids were staring at me, and Charlie told them to take a picture, and they went away."

"Nice one." Ron grinned at Charlie, who was sitting on the other side of Jane.

Charlie smiled cheerfully, and Harry was suddenly reminded of Fred and George. The grin was innocent, yet there was something mischievous about the innocence that belied a completely separate personality.

They spent the rest of lunch discussing various teachers, the older students offering the first years tips and advice as to who to avoid, and exactly how much you could get away with in History of Magic.

As the bell went, Harry watched Jane, Izzy and Charlie leave the hall together with mixed feelings. He was glad Jane had made friends so easily, but he couldn't help but worry about Izzy. After all, when it came down to it, she was a Malfoy.

"She was put in Gryffindor, Harry." said Hermione quietly.

Harry looked at her in amazement.

"How did you…?"

"Know what you were thinking? Easy. I saw the look on your face during the sorting last night, and I saw you watch them leave. She might be Malfoy's cousin, but that doesn't mean she's like him. Relatives don't mean anything to some people. Look at you and the Dursley's. Look at Sirius."

"Yeah." sighed Harry resignedly.

Hermione frowned at him for another moment, before disappearing off to Ancient Runes.

HTCHB

Harry and Ron spent the remainder of the afternoon in the common room, taking full advantage of the fact that most of the school being in lessons meant that the best chairs were empty.

After some discussion with Ron ("Get it over with mate. No use putting it off 'til the last minute."), Harry pinned a small notice to the House Board:

Quidditch Trials 

_If you are interested in becoming a Beater, Chaser or Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, trials will be held this Saturday at 10:30. _

Hermione turned up during their last lesson of the day, laden down with books, sheets of parchment and an extraordinarily heavy bag. She barely heard their greetings, and instead sat down an disappeared behind a book called "Ancient Runes; More Complex Conundrums."

As the bell rang for the end of the day the portrait hole swung open, and Jane climbed in with the rest of the Gryffindor first years. They all looked pale, and miserable, several sniffing miserably. Jane headed towards them and sat on the edge of a chair piled high with Hermione's books.

"What's up?" Harry asked his sister as Charlie flopped next to her. Jane's answer was interrupted by a cry from Hermione as she lunged forward to grab the pile of parchment Charlie had knocked over. Once Hermione had settled back behind a pile of books again, Jane answered.

"Snape." she spat bitterly.

Harry sighed. "What did he do?" he asked resignedly.

Jane shrugged.

"Not much. Just made me appear a complete idiot in front of the whole class." Jane's face was blank, but she sounded close to tears.

Hermione looked up from her books again.

"Just ignore him, Jane. He's a git." she said.

Ron flew up. "What! How come you're allowed to call him a git, but not us?" he cried in indignation.

Hermione shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything else to describe people who make kids cry."

It was Jane's turn to be indignant.

"I'm not crying." she said defensively.

"I know." said Hermione evenly. "But Izzy's not here. How long has she been in the toilets for?"

Jane looked at Hermione in amazement.

"How did you now Izzy was in the toilets?"

Hermione shrugged again. "She's not here. You just had Potions. Put two and two together to make four. How long has she been in there?"

"Since the end of the lesson. She told me to leave her alone."

"Go back and check on her."

Jane obediently got to her feet and disappeared out the portrait hole. Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione – he had never seen Jane obey someone straight off like that, not even her parents. It was a skill he could do with learning.

Ron watched her go, an ugly look on his face.

"I swear, one of these days I'm going to wring that greasy git's neck!" se said furiously.

"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully.

"What! You said it!"

"But I meant it in a nice way."

Ron opened his mouth, and then shut it again. After a moment's bafflement, he promptly turned to Charlie.

"So what did he do to Izzy?"

Charlie shrugged.

"He really liked her sister – he was swarming all over her. Then she did something wrong, and he had a right go at her, saying it was obvious she had none of her family's talent, and then she was nearly crying, and he said he was amazed she even got into Gryffindor."

Ron made a violent gesture, and Harry swore.

"Manners, boys, manners." said a voice, and Ginny appeared behind Harry's chair.

"What's all that about?"

"Snape." grunted Ron.

Ginny sighed.

"Git." she said idly.

Ron looked at Hermione for a moment. When she made no reaction, he grunted furiously.

"What's he done now?" asked Ginny, shifting more of Hermiones parchments to sit down.

Harry told her, and Ginny's face contorted into an ugly grimace that made her look surprisingly similar to Ron.

"I can't believe he gets away with that." she said furiously, but any further verbal discrediting of Snape was curtailed by Jane reappearing, followed by a very morose looking Izzy. Her eyes were slightly puffy, but she grinned nervously at them all when Jane pushed her into a chair, before perching on the arm.

"Just ignore Snape, Izzy." said Ginny comfortingly.

"Yeah, he's a git." agreed Ron. Hermione glared at him, the reproachful "Ron" evident in her eyes.

Izzy wiped her eyes.

"Is he always that mean?" she asked dejectedly.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

"Mostly." said Harry apologetically. "Don't worry about it though, it's nothing personal. He's hated me since he laid eyes on me. Take it as a compliment."

Izzy laughed nervously, her face momentarily lighting up. Charlie pulled a packet of exploding snap out of his pocket and held it up.

"Anyone want to play?" He asked the group at large.

Five minutes later, even Hermione had been enticed out of her book, and they were all sitting round the table playing a noisy game of snap. Homework, schoolbooks and Snape lay discarded, to be pursued later, when friends were gone, and laughter faded.

HTCHB

Harry's first week passed without further incident. Ron's joyous vision of free periods being full of relaxation and enjoyment was dashed within a few days, when they began to spend almost as much time in the library as Hermione. But that did at least mean that they had less to do in the evenings than Hermione, who was continually to be seen, or rather not seen, behind a pile of books in one corner of the common room every evening.

Jane seemed to settle down well, under the watchful eye of her older brother and his friends. They were well aware that many people in the school were very interested in Jane, not always for the most innocent of reasons. Malfoy and his cousin seemed to go out of their way to make life difficult for her, and Hermione had more than once been forced to restrain her two friends hexing the Malfoys as a whole.

Harry's qualms about Jane's friendship with Izzy were quietened, mostly by Izzy's reaction to Snape's taunting. No "real" Malfoy would react like that, and from Harry's point of view that was a very good thing. Charlie proved himself to be a follower of "the Fred and George" way of life, much to everyone's amusement.

The three of them had formed a close friendship, aided by the close proximity of their every day life. One night they did not return until come half ten, having been, as Charlie carefully put it, "searching for secrets". Harry and Ron had been watching the progress of the trio on the Marauders Map with great amusement – they seemed to have an unerring knack for leaving a room or passage way just as Filch was entering it.

And so it was all to quickly for Harry that Saturday, and the Quidditch trials, rolled around.

* * *

Poor Izzy. That kid's gonna have a tough first year. As indeed are Charlie and Jane. But I'll say no more. One more clue – keep an eye on Professor Bassey. There is more to her than it seems...

Next week…quidditch trials, a miserable Izzy, and a meeting with Hagrid…see you then!

Review!


	24. In Which Trials are Faced

I have an apology – I did post this last week, but only replaced an old chapter, and therefore no new alerts went out. So it'll have to do as this weeks chapter instead!

Thank you everyone for being so understanding about the lateness of this update – it has been a most hectic couple of weeks! We had our Guernsey weekend, which was fantastic, and then preparation for Hannah's departure to New Zealand…she now goes this Wednesday, saw her for the last time yesterday, which was hard.

Anyway, my undying love to the following for their fantastic reviews…

**just.a.reader.not.a.writer, magicalmoments, flower123, Kylara Kitsune, Lady Potter of Tortall, Wildphire, Nessa19, PHEONIX39, xyvortex, ballerinadoll9, krl25, iheartblackdogsirius, MoonGoddessBookworm, Len87, seikinoko, RedtheBrunette, i'm a misfit, LostHeart4 **and** Serious Fan.**

And with this chapter, this story officially becomes my longest story ever. So go me. I also think it's my most readable yet, which doesn't say much about my writing abilities!

Warning – This chapter really begins the forage into HBP excerpts, and so I apologise in advance for any bits you recognize from the books. When I was planning this, or the original version anyway, there were some areas I struggled to cover, and so rather shamelessly stole from the book.

* * *

Saturday dawned sunny, with a slight cool breeze. Hermione and Ginny meet them in the Great Hall for breakfast, the latter cheerfully, working her way through the sausages, while the former anxiously tried to persuade Ron to do the same.

"Come on, Ron." she wheedled. "Just one? Fat lot of good you'd be if you passed out through lack of food before the trials even start."

Ron shot Harry several desperate looks as the bushy haired girl continued to wave food in his face, but Harry merely grinned at the sight, and returned to his own breakfast.

In the end, mainly to appease the nagging Hermione, he managed to swallow half a sausage and a few bites of egg, before Harry gave in to the desperate looks he was receiving, and led his friend from the table.

By the time they arrived on the pitch, Ron had gone a delicate shade of green, and Harry was beginning to think he should have put his foot down about breakfast after all. The crowd of people already there didn't help, either. Harry had never seen so many people, most clutching brooms, standing around on the Quidditch pitch. When he and Ron arrived they all turned and stared at him, and more than a few started whispering to their neighbours.

At exactly half past ten, Harry called for attention.

"Excuse me, everybody," he called above the noise of the chattering crowd. A few people turned to look at him, but most others kept talking.

"Oi!" yelled Ron, "Listen up!"

Everyone went silent. Harry sent a grateful look at Ron, then turned to the assembled people.

"Er, right, ok everyone, thanks for coming." Harry began nervously. He tried to count the crowd, but there were too many. It would take days to try them all one by one. After a moments thought, he was struck by a different thought.

"Ok, could you all sort yourselves into groups of about 10, and fly once round the pitch for me." said Harry.

It was a good idea. The first group were first years, who could hardly stay aloft for longer than a few minutes. Only one, a small brown haired girl, managed to fly all the way around the pitch. Harry sent the other nine off, and they disappeared quite happily into the stands. The brown haired girl stood nervously at the side of the pitch, watching the others fly. The next two groups were full of giggling girls, who all crashed into each other when they stopped looking where they were going. The next group were ok. The fifth group had come without brooms. The sixth group were Ravenclaws. By then, Harry's patience was wearing thin.

"Right!" He bellowed, "Anyone else here not from Gryfinndor go NOW!!!" A couple of Hufflepuff boys ran giggling to the stands.

Eventually, Harry had a group of people who all fit the basic requirement for Quidditch – they could fly. Harry split them into groups for each position. To his relief, the Keeper group was the smallest – Ron and five others.

He tried Beaters first. First, they had to one by one hit various objects magiced towards them by Harry. That narrowed it down to four – two rather bulky fourth years, a skinny little third year, and a dark skinned fifth year.

This time, Harry released the real bludgers. One of the fourth years was knocked out the first time it came towards him, and had to be carried to the hospital wing by a couple of spectators. It took two bludgers, one from each side, to succeed in knocking the second fourth years bat from her hand.

The remaining two headed in Harrys direction, a small smile desperately trying not to be seen tickling at the fifth years lips.

"Welcome to the team." said Harry, nodding at each of them.

The fifth year smiled, but the third year looked as though Christmas had come early.

"Really?" he squeaked. Harry nodded again. Sammy Leeks was a small boy, and very skinny – normally the build for a seeker, not a beater. But he had good aim, and a pretty good swing. Beaming, the boy hared off to the stands to find his friends. Harry turned to the other beater, who looked strangely familiar. Harry frowned, trying to work out where he'd seen her before.

"I'm Lee Jordan's sister." she explained, reading his mind.

Harry nodded.

"So how come you didn't try out last year?" he asked.

Annie Jordan laughed. "Could you imagine it? Playing Quidditch with your brother commentating? No thanks."

Harry laughed. "Well, you flew well."

"Thanks." she smiled at him, and went to sit beside a rather hysterical Sammy.

Harry did the chasers next. This time he narrowed it down to five. Katie Bell, Ginny, two fourth years and the little first year. Now he could see her, Harry was ever so slightly amazed.

It was Izzy Malfoy.

She grinned nervously at him, clutching her broom. Harry was surprised. She was a very good flier, and an excellent chaser. None of the fake swagger of her cousin.

To narrow it down, they had had to only pass the Quaffle to each other. Most people dropped it on the first go. Now, they had to score; Harry watching them more carefully. There was no keeper yet, so they had it quite easy. Even so, it wasn't difficult to pick out three chasers. One of the fourth years seemed to think he owned the Quaffle, not passing to anyone else. The other, although good at passing, couldn't score if her life depended on it, and missed the goal by miles. Katie Bell returned after an excellent trial, Ginny seemed to have a natural talent, and to his great surprise, Izzy was a very neat player, in both passing and scoring. Harry was uncertain about her – it wasn't usual to have first years. But then, hadn't Harry himself been a first year player? A talk to Professor McGonagall seemed to be in order.

The three went and sat next to a slightly calmer Sammy, and Annie Jordan. Izzy was beaming at someone in the stands, and Harry, following her gaze, saw Charlie and Jane sitting next to Hermione. They were both smiling, but Hermione was pale, her eyes fixed on Ron, digging her nails into her face. When Harry called the keepers forward, she was almost the same colour as Ron.

As there were so few of them, Harry decided to try them one at a time straight away. The first two missed all five penalties from the new chasers. The third caught two, and lost the rest. The fourth was better – three. The fifth, a haughty looking fifth year, caught four. By then, Ron looked as though he wished the earth would swallow him up. He mounted his broom and kicked off. He caught one… two… three… four… by then, everyone had gone quiet, eyes focused on Ron. The fifth year looked mutinous as Izzy soared towards the goal. Ron had his eyes focused on her, his face set.

Suddenly, without warning, she swerved and passed it to Ginny, who was by the other end post. Ron streamed off after the ball. Ginny had caught it…she threw it towards the goal…it was about to fly through the hoop…when Ron's hands appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the ball. From the stands, Harry heard Hermione, Jane and Charlie cheering, and it took great self-restraint on his part not to join in. Instead, he settled for a broad grin as Ron flew towards him. The three chasers, and the two beaters had already reached him, and the new Gryfinndor team were all grinning broadly, slapping each other on the back.

Hermione, Charlie and Jane had all come down from the stands, and were hugging Izzy. Harry was heading towards them, when the haughty fifth year, Gerald Parker-Smyth appeared in front of him.

"I want a re-trail." he ordered haughtily.

"No." said Harry, frowning. "You saved four, Ron saved five. Ron makes the team."

"The chasers didn't try for him. His sister, his friend from last year's team, and that girl. It was an unfair trial."

"No it wasn't. You saw that last one. Ron makes the team. You don't."

By now, they were very close to the new team, who were all listening. The fifth year snorted.

"Some team." he said scornfully. "I can see how you pick your players – people you feel sorry for."

Ron began to reach for his wand. Gerald was sounding unpleasantly like Malfoy.

"Jordan, she's got no brains, Leek, he's a coward, Bell, she's ugly, the Weasleys, they've got no money, and that girl," he shot a malevolent look at Izzy. "Well, I'm surprised you even trust her, knowing her family, let alone allow her on the team. And be friends with your sister. She shouldn't even be in Gryfinndor. She's a disgrace."

And he turned and stormed off to the castle, which was probably a good thing. Ron and Ginny were being restrained by Hermione, and Annie had grabbed Charlie, who looked like he had forgotten that Gerald had four years more magical training than him, and was about to attack him with his bare hands. Izzy looked like she was about to cry, and Katie and Sammy both looked as though they were barely holding themselves back.

Harry shook his head sadly.

"Just ignore him. He's a sore loser." he said. "You're all excellent players, or I wouldn't have picked you. Sammy, Annie, both of you could be as good as Fred and George Weasley with a bit of practise. Katie, you know your great. Ron, that last save was brilliant. Ginny, you've got great aim. And Izzy, that last pass of yours was one of the best Quidditch moves I've ever seen."

A few tight smiles, but despondency had settled as they all started to head back up to the castle. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, Jane and Izzy followed, behind the others. Ron and Ginny were both still looking mutinous, and by un-spoken agreement Harry and Hermione decided they ought to give Gerald a chance to get as far away as possible.

Izzy was sniffing.

"Don't listen to a word he says, Izzy." said Hermione aurthoritively.

"But what if it's true?" She asked in a small voice. "I'm a Malfoy. I shouldn't be on the team. I shouldn't be your friend. And I shouldn't be in Gryfinndor."

Hermione looked helplessly at the others. Harry took over.

"Listen, Izzy. Who your family is doesn't matter one jot. I should know."

"But you've got a good family." protested Izzy.

"Not all. You must know I didn't grow up with my mum and dad. I grew up with my aunt and uncle. They're Muggles, and for years I never knew there was such a thing as magic. I lived in the cupboard under the stairs. My cousin is a bully who likes beating up little kids. My uncle is a bully who likes making people feel bad. And my aunt is a…well, I'm not sure what she is, but it's not pretty. And that's making them sound nice. They are some of the worst people in the world. And they were my family."

Izzy seemed to be cheering up a little.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Then she remembered something.

"Your aunt and uncle seem mean, but they're not your parents. And they're not dark wizards."

"No, they're not. But the fact your family is makes it no different. My godfather's family was some of the darkest wizards there were. His brother was a Death Eater. And he got put in Gryfinndor too."

"Really?" Izzy was visibly cheerier now. "What's his name?"

"Sirius Black."

Izzy eyes opened wide.

"My uncles wife's cousin?"

"The very same."

Izzy seemed amazed. They had all stopped walking now. Everyone's attention was focused on Harry and Izzy. It was the first time Harry had volunteered to talk about Sirius, and he seemed to have almost forgotten the others were there.

"I'm sorry." said Izzy quietly. "I know he's dead. My uncle told my mother, and I overheard."

Harry gave an awkward shrug, but his story seemed to have cheered Izzy immensely. Then she deflated again.

"But…" And she bit her lip worriedly. Harry considered her for a moment.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin?" he asked gently. Izzy nodded mutely. Hermione gasped, and Ron stood on her foot to shut her up. He was frowning at Harry. How could he know that? Unless…

"Well, it wanted to put me in there too." Harry said matter-of-factly. It was Ron's turn to gasp. Hermione looked shocked, and Ginny was gaping in amazement. Jane seemed concerned, and Charlie's eye's opened wider than saucers.

Izzy blinked. "What?" she said, amazed.

Harry shrugged and nodded. "If it wanted to put you in Slytherin, why are you in Gryfinndor?"

"Because I asked it not to put me in Slytherin." Said Izzy.

"Exactly. It is our choices that show us who we really are, far more than our abilities. To quote someone." Harry said. Izzy frowned for a moment, working it out. Then she smiled.

"I see." she said slowly, and the grin broadened.

"So you do belong in Gryfinndor. And you were easily one of the best I tried today, or I wouldn't have picked you." Harry said, a touch of finality in his voice. Izzy had cheered up again – she looked almost as perky as Harry had ever seen her. She smiled at him.

"Thanks Harry." she said with a smile. Charlie and Jane grinned comfortingly at their friend, glad she seemed happier. Ron, Hermione and Ginny however, rounded on Harry. He had almost forgotten they were there.

"Why did you never tell us about the hat wanting to put you in Slytherin?" demanded Ron. Harry thought for a moment.

"Because I'm not proud of that fact. It's in the part of me that I don't like – the same part of me that miss-trusts Izzy because of who her family is."

Hermione frowned. "But Harry – everyone will think that about Izzy at some point. We all have parts of us like that, where our deepest dark secrets live. But none of us were almost put in Slytherin."

Harry winced. Izzy, Jane and Charlie had moved off a little way, and were discussing brooms. Harry was glad - he knew Hermione was only trying to make sense of what he had said, but her wording wasn't great.

"But none of us have been attacked by you-know-who, have we." pointed out Ginny, "We've all got little dark corners, its true, but its like Harry has had his amplified because of You-Know-Who. In fact, he is even more deserving of Gryfinndor because he's got more of the dark corners to fight."

Harry grinned thankfully at Ginny, who winked back. Hermione seemed to be digesting what Ginny had said.

"Yes, that does make sense." she said slowly. "And the same for Izzy – she's even more of a Gryfinndor because she's got more dark corners to fight as well. Dumbledore was right, Harry. It is our choices that really define us."

Harry blinked in surprise.

"How do you know Dumbledore told me that?"

Hermione laughed. "Well, I hardly think that sort of wisdom came from, say, Ron. Besides, it's a very Dumbledore-ish thing to say."

Ron, who looked mildly affronted at the fact he wasn't a fountain of wisdom, looked over at Harry.

"Dumbledore-ish?" he mouthed.

Harry smothered a laugh. Ginny rolled her eyes, and she and Hermione started to make their way up to the castle. Ron and Harry were about to follow when a familiar figure started walking towards them. Harry corrected himself. Hagrid wasn't walking towards them – he was walking in the direction they happened to be standing in. As he reached Hermione and Ginny, they both smiled at him and called out greetings, but Hagrid didn't even register their existence. He barely looked at Ron and Harry. Harry glanced between the look of despair on Ginny and Hermione's faces, and Hagrid's retreating back, and something inside him snapped.

"Come on." he said, grabbing Ron's arm and jerking him after Hagrid. Hermione and Ginny followed, as did Jane, Izzy and Charlie. Hagrid's long strides meant he covered the ground quickly, and the others had to run to catch up with him.

Harry shouted, "Oi, Hagrid, wait!!!"

But the retreating figure paid no attention.

And then, all of a sudden, Ron fell to the ground, crying out in pain.

* * *

Uh oh…so what's happened to Ron? A stone in the shoe? A poisonous ladybird? An uneven patch of path? Tune in next week to find out! Although it actually won't be next week – **another late update,** I'm afraid, I'm in Somerset next week, and am therefore internet-less once more. However, I should get lots of writing done! I hope, anyway…I've hit that awkward bit between major happenings.

Anyway. Review!!! Please! I have biscuits!

Next week…They face Hagrid…


	25. In Which Weasleys Fight

Hey ho, back again! Lots of guesses as to what's happened to Ron, but no one got anywhere near! Go me and my, for once, seemingly un-guessable cliffhanger!

Sorry this has been a couple of days late – I tried to update on Monday, but there was something up with the site, and then yesterday my dad was fiddling with the wireless connection, so I couldn't get on.

As ever, adoration and the biscuits I can no longer eat (darn you lent!) to be showered upon the following for their fantastic reviews:

**Phantom of a Rose, flower123, dingohart, Nessa19, The Marauderet, seikinoko, Darkingfire, tlfsjs, Lady Potter of Tortall, Kylara Kitsune, HeyLookTheSnitch, PHEONIX39 **and **x-Xanti-x**

Warning – this is no-where near my greatest chapter. It's an awkward filler one that really annoys me, since a well planned story shouldn't have awkward fillers, but here it is. Necessary, if only to cover a few monor plot holes and pass time.

On we go again!

* * *

Harry skidded to a halt, and turned to Ron, who was sprawled on the ground.

"Ron! What's wrong?" he asked urgently. To his surprise, Ron winked at him, before moaning theatrically. With a look of dawning realisation, Harry suddenly guessed exactly what his best friend was up to.

"Ginny, Hermione, come back! Ron's hurt!"

Instantly, two worried teenagers were heading their way. But he winked at them, and jerked his head surreptitiously behind him. When he turned back to Hagrid, it was to see the half-giant heading back in their direction, running up the path towards Ron's fallen frame.

"Ron," he panted as he came up, "Are you alrigh'?"

Ron sat up. "Talking to us now, then?" he said grumpily. Throwing yourself on a stone path does hurt a bit, even if you don't mean it to.

Hagrid glowered. "Weasley, that's no way to talk to a teacher! And stop behaving like a silly child!"

Ron blinked – Hagrid was actually shouting at them!

"We're sorry, Professor." said Harry, a little sarcastically. It was Hagrids turn to blink.

"Ere', since when 'ave you lot called me Professor?" he gaped, non-pulsed.

"Since when have you called me Weasley?" countered Ron, gingerly rubbing his knee.

Hagrid glowered. "All righ', all righ'. Suppose you all want to come for a cup o' tea now you're here. And you three as well?" He peered at Izzy, Jane and Charlie.

"Come on then."

Hagrid hauled Ron to his feet, and started back towards his cabin, muttering darkly under his breath. Grinning delightedly at Ron, the others followed.

When they arrived at Hagrids, the door was open and Harry could hear Hagrid clattering about inside. He didn't sound to be in a good mood. Harry was about to go inside when Izzy gasped, and Jane let out a startled cry. They had disappeared round one side of the cabin, so Harry jumped down from the step to see what new monstrous creature Hagrid had bought in this year. In fact, he was pleasantly surprised. Buckbeck was tethered to a post in the vegetable patch.

"Don't go too near, you three." Hermione called nervously. She had never quite got over Buckbeck. Harry and Ron, however, had no such qualms. They walked up to Buckbeck, and bowed low. Jane almost cried out a warning when the large creature made to move towards her brother and Ron, but she bit it back as it to sank into what could only be described as a bow. Ginny stepped forward and bowed as well, but Hermione hung back, still uncertain.

Hagrid appeared round the side of the cabin.

"There you are." he said gruffly.

"I didn't know you were looking after Buckbeak, Hagrid." said Ron, patting the Hippogriffs beak. Hagrid smiled properly for the first time.

"It's good to 'ave him back. Dumbledore bought him back here a few days after Sirius died." Hagrid stopped speaking suddenly, and shot a glance at Harry, who started making an intricate study of Buckbeak's neck.

"Anyway," said Hagrid nervously. "What do you lot want?"

"We want you to talk to us again." said Hermione, sounding almost tearful. "Please Hagrid, we wanted to take Care of Magical Creatures, we really did, but we just couldn't fit it in."

Ron and Harry carefully avoided looking at each other over Buckbeak's back.

"Aye, well." said Hagrid, shifting uncomfortably.

"Honestly, Hagrid, its awful when you're not talking to us." added Harry.

"Aye, well." said Hagrid again. "I can't deny I ain't missed you lot hanging around. And I could do with some help with the Manticore I've got coming next week."

Ron choked, and looked at Hagrid, horror all over his face. Harry and Ginny exchanged nervous glances, and Hermione began,

"Oh, honestly Hagrid. You can't possibly keep a Manticore…"

But she trailed off at the sigh of Hagrids laughing face.

"I'm joking." he promised, grinning widely. Ron sighed with relief, while Hermione still seemed suspicious. But the tension was broken, and Hagrid seemed to have forgiven them.

"So who are you?" he said, peering down at Jane, Izzy and Charlie. "I remember you from the firs' night. You're Harry's sister."

Jane nodded, staring up at the man in front of her. He beamed, his hairy face stretching so much it looked almost painful.

"I read that thing in the _Prophet_. I wanted to come with Professor Dumbledore, but he said best wait. But I can't tell you how happy I was." Hagrid grinned happily. "You will tell them I said hello?"

Harry promised, and Hagrid moved on to the other two.

"And you're...?" He looked questioningly at Charlie.

"Charlie Chang, Professor." said Charlie nervously.

Hagrid laughed. "No need to call me Professor. I'm Hagrid. And you are the Malfoy who got put in Gryfinndor." Hagrid examined Izzy thoughtfully. "What was your name again?"

"Izzy." she said, looking as though she wished the ground could swallow her. Hagrid nodded.

"Well, that was a turn up for the books. I bet your families none to pleased."

Izzy shrugged half-heartedly. Hagrid studied her for a moment, and then turned to the others.

"Anyway, come in, all of yer', you ungrateful little..." Hagrids voice trailed of into a growl, a grin plastered across his hairy face.

HTCHB

The first two months back at Hogwarts passed in a blur for Harry. When he woke up on Monday morning of the week of Halloween, he could hardly believe he had been at Hogwarts so long. Homework, detentions, and, to his delight, letters from his parents, had caused the weeks to fly by. The first Hogsmeade trip of the year had been planned for the Saturday before Halloween, much to most people's excitement. The morning dawned cloudy, with a cold bite in the air, and by the time breakfast was over the rain was starting to fall. After saying goodbye to Jane, Charlie and Izzy, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed for the Entrance Hall. Filch seemed to be in a filthy mood – he glowered at them all as they left, and greeted Ron's sarcastic "Lovely to see you too." with a particularly hard poke from the dark-magic sensor.

They walked down to Hogsmeade, heads bent against the bitter wind and driving rain. By the time they reached the village, Harry felt as though he'd swum the channel with all his clothes on. Ron pointed towards Honeydukes – every time he opened his mouth he gained one full off water.

The three thankfully slipped in the warmth of Honeydukes. They weren't the only ones. Half of Hogwarts seemed to be packed against the shelf covered walls. They spent a happy hour picking out sweets to take back to Jane, Charlie and Izzy, and trying out the free taster's. Eventually, they decided to brave the wind and rain once more. A quick call at Zonkos, which looked particularly bleak after Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and then to the Three Broomsticks.

They entered the packed building, looking around for a table. There were none free, but Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Neville and Luna were sitting in one corner. They pushed their way over.

"Hey you guys." said Ginny, grinning at them as they sat down. Harry and Hermione grinned back, but Ron was preoccupied in drying himself. He shook his head rapidly, spraying water all over everyone. Ginny shrieked, and Hermione exclaimed "Ron!"

"What? I'm wet." Ron said defensively.

"So're Harry and me, but we're not drenching everyone, are we?"

Ginny caught Harry's eye, and rolled her eyes as the two argued. Seamus looked like he was trying not to laugh, and Dean had a look of vast amusement on his face. Luna, meanwhile, was dreamily stirring her butterbeer, humming under her breath. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, pulled out her wand and muttered a spell. Instantly, Harry felt as though he'd been sitting by the fire all day.

"Thanks Hermione." said Ron gratefully. "I'll get us some drinks."

Hermione shook her head as he disappeared into the throng.

"Honestly." she muttered under her breath.

Ron eventually returned, and the group spent the afternoon discussing anything from Quidditch to the latest news in the _Daily Prophet_. Eventually, when the rain seemed to be abating, they left, battling their way back to the castle.

Jane, Charlie and Izzy were all in the common room when they entered, looking enviously warm and dry. Hermione disappeared up to her dormitory to have a shower, while Harry and Ron stood in front of the fire, the moisture rising of them as steam.

"Here you lot, we got you some stuff from Honeydukes." said Harry, tossing the now half empty bag to his sister.

Jane caught it gleefully and tipped the contents onto the floor.

"Brilliant! Thanks Harry!" she exclaimed, picking up a chocolate frog and opening the card. Charlie instantly fell upon an open packet of Bertie Botts – he had an unusual love for the sweets - and Izzy was licking a sugar quill.

Harry smiled, and looked over at Ron. He had to stifle a laugh – the heat of the fire had turned Ron's face red, and that combined with his hair and the steam still rising off him made him look like a small volcano. Hearing Harry's snigger, Ron rolled his eyes and moved away from the fire. He was about to help himself to a cauldron cake when his gaze fell upon an armchair in one corner of the room. Harry frowned as Ron's face contorted in anger. He followed Ron's gaze, and saw Ginny sitting cuddled up next to Dean, apparently joined at the lips. Ron leapt to his feet and strode across the rooms.

"Oi!" he shouted, causing several people to look up in astonishment, and Ginny and Dean to break apart. She looked furious.

"What?" she glared back aggressively.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"What did it look like?"

"It looked like you were trying to suck each others faces off!"

People in the common room started shifting about uncomfortably, Dean looking as though he wished he were anywhere but there. Harry, however, was having an internal argument of his own. At the sight of Dean and Ginny, a feeling of terrible anger had risen up inside him that he didn't know he had. Harry was so busy trying to suppress his sudden desire to rend Dean limb from limb that he barely heard a word of Ron and Ginny's argument. It was only when Hermione came back from her dorm that he snapped back into reality.

"What IS going on in here?" she exclaimed at the sight of Ron and Ginny standing ten feet apart, faces red with shouting, Harry standing half heartedly in the middle, helplessly trying to calm them down, and Dean cowering behind a cushion.

"Oh, nothing Hermione, don't you worry about it." said Ginny in an acidly sweet voice. "Just my dear brother invading my life, as usual."

"Ron?" said Hermione threateningly.

"She was…well… she was thrashing around with him like there's no tomorrow!" Ron spluttered.

"For gods sake Ron, will you give it a rest!" cried Ginny. "There's nothing wrong or dirty with kissing! Just 'cause you've never kissed anything more than our Auntie Muriel!"

By now the entire Common Room was silent.

"Just cos I don't go round doing it in public!" cried Ron.

"Oh, come on!" snorted Ginny. "Anyone here ever kissed my brother? Anyone at all?" Ginny asked the common room at large. A few people shifted uncertainly in their seats. The sight of two angry Weasleys was enough to make anyone nervous.

"Ha!" snorted Ginny. "Face it Ron. Harry snogged Cho, Hermione snogged Viktor, I snogged Dean! It's only you who goes round treating it like it's something dirty!"

Hermione had gone bright red as Ron's accusing eye turned on her. But Ginny hadn't finished yet.

"Its only you, Ron!" she cried, appearing to have let leave of her senses. "Only you! Why don't you just get over it and finally admit you like her? Its obvious to everyone else you do! So quit all this idiocy and flaming well ask her out, and leave me and Dean in peace!" Ginny practically screamed the last line. Then her hand flew to her mouth, her face paled, and a mortified look covered her countenance. Ron had gone a funny colour, eyes bulging in disbelief. He mumbled something Harry couldn't hear and fled to the boy's dormitory. Ginny was shaking her head, moaning a little.

"Oh Merlin," she breathed. "Oh Merlin, I didn't mean to say that."

Harry approached her along with Hermione. Dean had re-appeared from behind his cushion and was tugging Ginny's arm.

"Come on Ginny." he said. "Lets go somewhere else."

Ginny shook his arm off. "No, Dean. You go find Seamus. I need to talk to Harry and Hermione."

Dean nodded a little uncomfortably, and disappeared.

"Oh Merlin." murmured Ginny again. Hermione shook her arm gently.

"Its alright, Ginny, honestly. He'll come round."

But Ginny shook her head. "I can't believe I said that! I always told myself, no matter how angry I got with him I would never tell anyone. And now I've told the whole common room. Oh Merlin. Oh god. Oh Merlin."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. Out the corner of his eye he could see Jane, Izzy, and especially Charlie all looking at him with wide eyes. Drat.

"Go check he's ok, Harry. He might blast me out the roof." Ginny was saying, her voice muffled.

Glad of an excuse to avoid what looked like it was about to become a very awkward question time with his sister and her friends, Harry readily ran up to the dormitory.

"Ron?" he said to the closed curtains.

"Go away." Ron's muffled voice came back. Harry sighed.

"Oh come on Ron, it wasn't that bad."

"It was! Did you see her face?"

"Um," Harry frowned, "whose face in particular?"

"_Hers_!"

"Ron, cut it out. Ginny said nothing more incriminating than the fact that you like someone. She didn't even say a name."

"Doesn't matter. I'm never going down there again."

"Don't be stupid. Ginny's really upset; she knows she went to far. She's sent Dean off so she can try and sort things out with you."

For a moment there was silence. Then Ron's face appeared between the curtains.

"Really? She got rid of Dean?"

"Only while she tries to sort you out. She's really upset, Ron."

"Well," Ron seemed torn between his embarrassment and wanting to see if Ginny really had sent Dean away. "Ok."

Ron climbed out. His face was still slightly red and his robes were in a state, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You coming?" he asked, heading for the door.

Now Harry hesitated.

"You know what? I think I'll just stay here."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What have you got to be embarrassed about?"

Harry grinned a little. "You didn't hear what else your dear sister told the common room?"

"What, about you and Cho Chang? Oh come on Harry, everyone knew that."

"Charlie didn't, nor Jane, by the looks on their faces."

Ron stared for a moment, then laughed.

"Oh brilliant, this I have to see."

Grabbing Harry's arm, Ron practically dragged him back to the common room. Almost the minute they set foot of the staircase, Ginny threw herself on Ron.

"I am so so so so so so sorry!" she cried, looking worriedly at his face. Ron blushed a little, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Where's Dean?" he asked warily.

"I don't know, I sent him to find Seamus." said Ginny impatiently.

Ron brightened a little.

"Really?"

"Of course. I went too far, Ron, I'm not too proud to deny it. But you've got to stop trying to control my life. And telling the twins."

Ron hesitated. "Are we making a deal here?" he asked suspiciously.

Ginny shrugged. "If you like. I'll try not to 'thrash about' to much if you stop erupting at me like that."

Ron hesitated. "Alright." he sighed, a little reluctantly.

Ginny beamed. "Well thank god for that."

Harry smiled at Hermione, who was nodding contentedly to herself, and he wondered how much of a hand she'd had in arranging that agreement. Jane's voice bought him out of his thoughts.

"Harry!" she called from where the three first years were sitting. "Come here a minute."

Reluctantly, Harry walked towards them.

"Have a seat, Harry." said Izzy formally. Harry sat.

"Now Harry." began Charlie. Harry was starting to feel uncomfortable with the number of times they were saying Harry.

"What exactly have you been doing with my sister?"

HTCHB

"He didn't!" exclaimed Ginny, her face red with laughter.

"He did." said Harry, hiding a grin of his own. It was the next morning, and Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron were eating breakfast; in recognition of their new agreement, Ginny had bypassed Deans waving arm.

"So what did you say?" asked Ron eagerly.

"Well, I sort of said ummm, ahhh…"

"Then I came to his rescue." declared Hermione with a grin, a piece of toast half way to her mouth. "And told them that he had kissed her, nothing more."

Ron's laughter was curtailed by the arrival of the post. Hedwig swooped down and deposited a letter on Harry's bacon, before moving along a little way to help herself to his sausage.

Harry slit the letter open, recognising his Mums handwriting. Ginny and Ron were just getting into a conversation about quidditch with Neville, who had sat down next to them, when Harry let out a moan.

"Harry? What is it?" Ron asked worriedly.

Harry shook his head, then looked around the Hall. "Where is she? I swear I'm going to kill her!" He cried with anguish.

"Kill who?" Ron asked, looking confused. Harry shoved him the letter. Ron scanned it quickly, then let out a loud laugh.

"I don't believe it." He said, passing the letter to Hermione. Ginny peered over her friends shoulder.

The letter seemed normal enough. Harry's parents had seen a lot of Remus, some of Tonks. Mrs Weasley was mentioned, as were several other names they vaguely recognised from the Order, but there was nothing of any great concern. Then, right at the bottom, was a small note.

"P.S – Harry, who's Cho Chang?"

Ginny laughed at the look on Harry's face. Even Hermione seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face.

"Told you having a little sister wasn't all fun and games!" said Ron, still chortling.

Harry grunted. "And to think, when I met her, she seemed such a shy, timid thing." he said grumpily.

"Where did you go wrong?" Ron toned seriously, before cracking up once more.

* * *

Ach, bless 'em. Who'd have a younger sister?

Next week…a diversion back to the Potter household with a look at what Lily has been up to since the two eldest have left.

Now, a little ditty for you…

You've read my chapter, perhaps enjoyed it too,

Now make my day, and leave a review!

Such skill! Admire the poetryness of it all!


	26. In Which Lily Faces the Truth

Hey ho, fanfic alerts are down again. Is it just me, or have these sort of failings got much more frequent recently?

Anyhoo, my undying thanks to those whose reviews did make it through before the fall, and of course to any who's didn't. I apologise if I've missed you in the following list:

**Lady Potter of Tortall, flower123, dingohart, ribenren101, Phantom of a Rose, Tansiana, Nessa19, Nix, Meg-z Peg-z, Mei1105, seikinoko, ballerinadoll9, armygundamgirl,** and **Cyler Fharzhide.**

And yet another milstone reached – 300 reviews was hit with the last chapter! I'm dancing over here, having only just realized! May more love be showered upon you all!

Ok, yet another warning – Molly Weasley features heavily in this chapter, but is also, in my opinion, out of character in some parts. I apologise – I tried to work it out, but whatever she's morphed into is amazingly stubborn.

Also, this is un-beta'd, due once again to my sisters amazing pile of science revision. Her exam is in a couple of weeks, thank god. All back to normal then, whatever normal is…

* * *

Lily Potter stood at the end of a windy country road, in front of a broken, rotting wooden gate, and wondered what on earth she was doing there. Molly Weasley probably had very little desire to see her – she'd only met the woman twice for Christ's sake! – and Lily had the distinct impression that she was disliked by the red head. So why she was standing in the middle of a place she'd never been to, clutching a tin of what now seemed rather pitiful brownies, about to pay a call on a woman she was pretty certain at least severely disliked her, she did not know.

It had something to do with being bored. Lily was often bored in September – after 6 or more long weeks of holiday, with three and now four children running around the place, being once more at home with nothing but her studio was always strange. James at work, Cam and Mark on their annual "away", and the children all at school, two for the day, two at least until Christmas. She hadn't been in the mood for painting – very little had come out of her studio all summer, ever since she had regained her life, and it was starting to worry her. After all, it was her job. They couldn't afford to live of James's income alone – a veterinary nurses pay was not the best in the world, and so the family relied upon the extras that Lily bought in with her painting. She hoped it wasn't a permanent block.

And so, with a sigh, she had once more walked away from a blank canvas and somehow found herself in the kitchen, hands automatically moving to the ingredients of her usual creation. An hour later, and here she was.

"Are you going to come in, or just stand there all day?" a woman's voice snapped, pulling Lily out of her thoughts. She looked up to see the plump form of Molly Weasley bearing down on her, apron over her robes and a flustered chicken under her arm.

As a teenager, Lily Evans had possessed a fiery temperament, and as an adult Lily Potter would still tap into that when annoyed, tired, cross or unsure. And so it was that, and not common sense, which spoke.

"I dunno. Standing seems good right now."

Mrs Weasley snorted. "You're here for a reason. May as well come in."

Pride and reason battled it out for a moment in Lilys mind, before common sense finally reared its ugly head and started forcing her feet to move towards the house. Molly Weasley had once more disappear, but by following the sounds of the chickens disgruntled clucks, Lily managed to find the open doorway at the back of the house through which the woman had gone. It was a…unique…building, at best, seemingly top heavy, and almost certainly held together by far more than your average construction materials.

The room too was certainly something out of the ordinary. It was a kitchen – fairly large, an assortment of cupboards and dressers lining the walls, a large stove against the back wall. A wooden table surrounded by chairs stood in the centre of the room, and behind it, an open door allowed a glimpse of another room beyond. Every surface was covered in something – books, photos, robes, ornaments, pots, odd bits of wire, anything. Lily felt like she had stepped into some sort of junk shop, although the feeling that seemed to almost radiate from the house itself, of warmth and happiness, dispelled that idea.

Lily stepped, somewhat nervously, across the threshold, feeling as though she were entering enemy territory. It was ridicules, really – how could one slightly plump, middle aged woman make her so…annoyed. Not annoyed, there wasn't a word for it really. She just rubbed her up completely the wrong way.

The answer lay in a photo, unframed, propped up against a mug on a dresser directly opposite the stove. It was slightly larger than your average muggle photo, curling slightly at the edges from being propped up so long. Mr and Mrs Weasley, instantly recognisable, stood at the back, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Around them stood nine others, seven boys and two girls. At least two, if not three, of the boys were definitely adults, young men by rights. Two smiling and laughing along with the rest, the third looking slightly uncomfortable, although a trace of a grin was evident. Two more boys, late teens, identical down to the freckles, were cackling from the middle of the crowd, grins of pure evil enough to rival even the marauders themselves plastered across their faces. Then, crouching down together at the front, the four youngest. Two boys, and the two girls, the smallest, ginger haired girl on the edge, the other three crowded in tight together, arms loosely slung around each other's shoulders. Harry, looking for the all world like every other teenager, at some form of family gathering. Except the people he was grouped with…not a Potter in sight.

"Over two years ago now." said Molly Weasley, appearing behind Lily and making her jump slightly in surprise. "Just after the quidditch world cup. Before…" her voice caught for a moment, "well. Before everything."

Lily looked at her, a frown on her face. It was an odd statement, and one she was determined to uncover.

"Tea?" switching tracks suddenly, Mrs Weasley turned back into the room.

"What? Oh…yes. Please." Lily swivelled round, and in doing so, noticed for the first time the chicken, dropped unceremoniously into a box on the kitchen table.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked, curiosity overcoming hostility. Cam had kept chickens, back in the beginning, and now she kept a small flock at the bottom of the garden herself. It was soothing to watch them, funny little creatures, so pompous and busy.

"Leg mite, but the stupid things will not shift. I've tried every spell I can think of, but the dratted stuff keeps coming back."

Lily frowned, lifting the chicken and turning it over. Sure enough, raised leg scales and a white crusty formation betrayed the parasites presence.

"Have you tried amoxin?"

"I don't think I've heard of that one…" Molly frowned, fingering her wand.

"It's not a spell. It's a sort of powder, most vets stock it. You rub it on the legs with a bit of vaseline – it did wonders when we got infested a couple of years ago."

"You keep hens?" For the first time, Molly Weasley looked truly interested in the woman in front of her.

"Sure. Only 10, but they keep us busy."

"And this…amoxin – it really works?"

"It did for us. We've still got some left, I think, I could bring you some over some time."

Mrs Weasley eyed her carefully for a moment. "Ok. If it's not too much trouble."

There was an awkward silence, during which the kettle whistled merrily, and the two moved to the table, sitting on opposite sides and sipping tea without breaking eye contact.

"How's Harry?"

Mrs Weasley's tone was odd, tight and indifferent and curious all at once.

"He's fine." Lily said, equally guarded in her answer.

"We missed him this summer."

"Yeah, well, you know, seeing as how he's missed us for 15 years, you'll forgive him for not visiting more often."

Mrs Weasley looked unruffled by the younger woman's outburst.

"I was stating a fact, not making an accusation."

Lily sighed irritably, and yanked awkwardly at a strand of hair.

"Look, I should go." she said, placing down the mug. "You must be busy. I don't know why I came, really. I'll bring the chicken stuff over sometime tomorrow."

"You've not finished your tea." pointed out Mrs Weasley with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, I've nothing better to do than entertain unwilling visitors anyway."

Lily looked at her, incredulous. "You hardly even know me." she pointed out, deciding to ignore the fact that it was she who had chosen to come visit a woman she hardly knew.

"You came to see me, not the other way around. Why did you come?" Looking as though the thought had only just struck her, Mrs Weasley leaned forward, intrigued.

"I dunno." said Lily with an awkward shrug. "To see you, I guess."

"Why?"

Lily shook her head. "I told you, I dunno. You evidently don't like me, and I can't say I'm overly taken with you, so…"

"You're blunt, I'll give you that."

"You don't deny it."

The older woman hesitated, just for a moment, and then nodded. "Ok. Yes. You're not amongst my list of favourite people."

"Why?"

"You're being very calm about this."

"Hey, I've already been through half of this with my sister. Takes more than you to get a rise out of me. So go on. Why don't you like me? I'll tell you my reasons for disliking you."

"Fine." For a few minutes, Molly Weasley did nothing more than stare into her mug, swirling the tea in thought.

"For the past five years, Harry's been as much a fixture in this household as any one of my children. He's spent most of his holidays here, had Christmas with us, everything. And when he was lost and alone and scared 'cause he'd just seen Voldemort rise from the dead and murder one of his friends, when he needed a mother to just hug him and make it all better for a few moments…that was me, then. I was the closest thing to a mother he was ever likely to get, and I knew I could never live up to the dreams he'd painted of you and James but that was fine with me, 'cause I could be the next best thing. And then…you appear again, like magic. And I'm not needed anymore. He's got his dream, and I'm not in it."

Lily said nothing, gazing impassively at the other woman.

"Well," she said after a few minutes. "That's ironic."

"What is?"

"My reasons are almost identical, except turned on their back. You've been his mother for 5 years, there when he needed someone. You've seen him through more than any person should have had to go through, you've got a whole five years of his life that I'm never going to be able to see, not properly. He talks about you, about your family, things he's done with you that he should have been doing with us. And boy does that hurt."

Tears she hadn't noticed before began to seep out of the corner of one eye, and Lily angrily wiped them away.

"More tea." said Mrs Weasley firmly, plonking the teapot in front of Lily.

Lily snorted. "Answer to everything, right?"

"No. But it helps."

There was another silence, less strained this time, before Mrs Weasley spoke again.

"Now you see, the way I see it, we are a right pair."

Lily looked up questioningly.

"I mean, you don't like me because I've had time with Harry you missed, and I don't like you because you've got something with Harry that I can never have. It's like you said, the same thing in reverse."

"Guess we'll have to go on disliking then." muttered Lily.

"Why? We'd both profit far more from a friendship of some sort, at least."

"How so?"

"I can tell you about the past few years, what Harry won't think, or won't want, to tell you. And in return, you keep me up to date on what he's doing now. 'Cause like it or not, he's as much my son as Ron, and I'm not going to relinquish my claim completely."

Lily sighed. Much as she disliked what she was saying, there was something about this Molly Weasley that appealed to her. She was the sort of woman you could see being everyone's mother, if they'd let her – bossy and bustling and nosy and with too big a heart. She reminded her a bit of Cam.

"Alright." She conceded. "I guess."

Mrs Weasley rolled her eyes. "You sound like Ginny. And no, that's not a compliment."

HTCHB

It was, in the end, a rather pleasant afternoon, all things considered. Lily and Molly Weasley talked, of Harry, of children in general, of chickens, and slowly, somewhere along the way, the first steps to a tentative friendship were formed. Like with Petunia, it would take work and drive to get it over the first hurdle of dislike, but for their joint love of a certain dark haired teenager, they'd get there.

It was as she was leaving that Molly had disappeared, reappearing a few minutes later to push a small square of paper into Lily's hand. She looked down into the smiling faces of a photograph. Harry, of course, and two that Lily recognised as Ron and Hermione, although all three were several years younger. Taken about the same time as the photo Lily had seen in the Weasley's kitchen, by the looks of the three, in what was probably the back garden of the Burrow. They didn't seem to know the photo had been taken – none were looking at the camera, instead at each other. Hermione's hand resting on a discarded book as the three sat under a gnarled old tree, laughing at something unknown.

And finally, Lily understood. She was his mother, most definitely, and she would die all over again to save him. But Harry, her lost child, had lived without her, made a life for himself and built up another family. And no matter how hard she tried, he was never going to need her like the other three did. He had at least two families, possibly more for all she knew, and none of them would let one woman come between them and someone they loved. She could take the fact – swallow her pride, and share – or she could leave it, and earn the wrath of a Weasley, and quite possibly loose her son.

She took it.

HTCHB

Much later that night, as James wrestled Gemma to bed upstairs, Lily sat in front of her easel, the photo propped up in front of the blank paper. There was so much yet to learn, so much more to find out…a whole life she had to learn about.

Glancing again at the photo, Lily smiled. She picked up a pencil, and began to sketch.

* * *

Done and done!

Sorry about yet another Lily/Person-she-may-or-may-not-like meeting, it's repetitive, I know, but necessary. For something. Not sure what. Possibly the plot.

Also, I know Lily came across as slightly childish in this, but Molly Weasley seems to have the ability to make everyone feel like a naughty teenager when she's cross, so I thought it seemed appropriate.

And now I need to go pack for my excursion to Edinburgh tomorrow! I'll keep my eyes open for a certain author!


	27. In Which the World Goes Wrong

Another week, another Monday, another update. Ho hum. And there's a chocolate advert on the telly…/drools/…

The people whose reviews I loved almost as much as the chocolate I recently consumed are:

**ballerinadoll9, Mei1105, Tansiana, Isis the Sphinx, Nessa19, Lady Potter of Tortall, Len87, grimlock78, Orion in the Sky, Gryffin's love, MiXeDuPmEsSeDbOoKs, Kassie, flower123, Band Nerd Potter, seikinoko, Kylara Kitsune, PHEONIX39, dingohart, away with the faeries, Siriusly Kewl** and **IngWild**

My thanks to you all! One of my highest review counts yet!

I've noticed an increase in the number of people leaving reviews without accounts – if you don't have an account, and would like email alerts of when I'm updating, drop me a note in the review. If there's a question posted in there too, I'll answer it below.

**MiXeDuPmEsSeDbOoKs** – Sorry, probably not. I aim to get chapters between 6 and 8 pages on word, any longer and I'd struggle to get one up every week.

* * *

The next few weeks passed without incident. September gave way into October, bringing cooler weather and a few final days of autumn sun. So it was that one Saturday a week into October, Harry, Ron and Hermione were to be found sitting under the large tree by the lake, Hermione with her usual collection of text books, Ron and Harry with a pack of exploding snap. It had been an uneventful few weeks, in comparison to some at Hogwarts, with nothing more exciting than the odd howler to a misbehaving child.

It was a shame, in a way, or perhaps the idea of tempting fate, but Hermione's words at that moment in time could not have been more badly timed if she had tried.

"I like days like these." the bushy haired girl was saying, looking across at her friends.

"What d'you mean?" asked Ron, without taking his eyes of the cards in front of him.

"Days when we can just sit outside, and the world seems to be almost going right."

"You mean days when we're not being hunted by various evil wizards, or tracking down ancient and possibly world-ending artefacts?" queried Harry, eyebrows raised.

"Exactly."

"Gonna be a lot more of them now." pointed out Ron, sounding very satisfied.

"You think?" Harry looked curiously at his two friends. They had not yet discussed fully the implications of the events of the previous July, but it had been a conversation long coming.

Hermione frowned. "It all hinges on the fact as to whether Voldemort is well and truly gone this time." she said, her thinking tone in place.

"No." Harry and Ron both spoke together.

"But even so, he's not exactly going to appear in Hogsmeade, all guns blazing." mused Hermione.

"All guns what?" Ron frowned, looking confusedly at his two friends.

"It's a muggle saying Ron, meaning coming in ready to attack anything in sight." Explained Harry. "But Hermione's right, I hope."

Ron glanced at Hermione, and for a moment there seemed to be some sort of silent communication going on between the two.

"Harry," began Hermione at last. "I…I mean, Ron and I…we were planning on talking to you over the summer, but what with your parents and everything, we never got round to it, but we were wondering…you know, how…"

"We want to know what happened after you chased after Bellatrix." finished Ron, with an exasperated look at Hermione.

Harry sighed. Some part of him had hoped that this conversation would never have to occur – a bigger part of him had always known it must.

"We made it into the big hall, the entrance part." He said, closing his eyes as he remembered. "Bellatrix was there, laughing at me. At Sirius. We duelled a little, and I told her the prophecy had smashed. She started shrieking, apologising to Voldemort, and suddenly he was there too. And then Dumbledore was there, and the statues were moving, and he and Voldemort were duelling, and people kept shouting and shrieking. The Voldemort just…vanished. I thought it was safe, and started to move, but Dumbledore was suddenly right in front of me, looking far more worried than he had before."

"What happened?" whispered Hermione.

"He possessed me. Voldemort, I mean. Dumbledore said it was with the hope that he would kill me with the intention of destroying Voldemort. It felt like my head was being wrenched in two – I thought I was dying. Only it didn't seem to bad. dying, I mean. Cos Sirius was dead, and I thought my parents were, and I knew you lot could get on without me…maybe death wasn't so bad after all. I'd see Sirius again, at least. And then he was gone, and it was just me and Dumbledore and Bellatrix, and a few ashes. I'd ripped him from his body again, Dumbledore said, thinking about Sirius and everything. Same as last time."

"So he can come back." said Hermione with a nod.

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

"But we're more prepared for it this time." pointed out Ron. "We know he can do it – no nore denial. The Misitry can sort itself out, come up with a plan."

"And we've got a bit of time to not have to worry about rescue missions, or what-not." added Hermione with a smile. "Harry's got his parents, Voldemort's gone, for a while. We might even make it through this year without incident."

Of course, the moment she said those words, the universe instantly set to, ready to combat Hermione's theory as thoroughly as it could. Sod's law was being called into play, starting with the worried looking red-head streaking acors the castle lawns towards them, a newspaper clutched in one hand.

"Have you seen this?" gasped Ginny as she neared them, throwing the newspaper at Hermione's feet. The older girl scooped it up, and unfolded it to the first page.

"Oh my…" she whispered, her face paling. Ron and Harry instantly dived for the paper, holding it up between them and reading the headlines with shook.

Attack on Wizard Homes 

_12 Dead, Many Injured_

_Dark Mark Spied Above Rooftops_

The three read the article quickly, peering over each others shoulders.

"I…I don't believe." gasped Hermione hoarsely as they finished the article. "They…the monsters!"

_He-who-must-not-be-named may be gone, _the article read, _but his legacy is living on in many of his followers. As many as thirty gathered in the early hours of yesterday morning, and struck up to ten separate wizarding households, murdering occupants in their beds. Such acts have not been seen since You-Know-Who's first rise to power, over 16 years ago, and brings into question the assurances from the Ministry that he is indeed gone once more. After all, is this not the same Ministry which was assuring us as little as three months ago that all rumours of You-Know-Whos return were nothing more than malicious rumours? And with such acts of brutality happening once more within our own community, can we be blamed for questioning the eye witnesses, including the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Albus Dumbledore, over their own promises that they saw He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named die before their very eyes?_

_But no matter what the official authorities say, one thing is clear: leaderless or not, those who once followed You-Know-Who are not so ready to throw down their masks. _

"I don't believe it." repeated Hermione. "The…foul..." words seemed to fail the teenager as she glared angrily at the newspaper, as if it was responsible for all the wrongs in the world.

"They know he can come back, this time." pointed out Harry with a tired shrug. "Last time, everyone thought he was dead. This time they're not going to risk letting up on anything. Just in case he makes another return."

"But…why now? Why not last month? Or next month?"

The others shook their heads, equally flummoxed.

"It's so unfair!" cried Ginny suddenly, flopping down onto the grass with a thump. "They just won't give us any peace! Not even a year without something going wrong!"

"Your plan for the year seems out the window, at any rate." said Harry with a mirthless grin, turning to Hermione. "Should have known it'd be too much to ask for."

HTCHB

The news of the attacks spread quickly throughout the school – by dinner, much of the student body was discussing it. Several of those attacked had been families of people at the school – little Molly Allen, a Gryfinndor first year, had been informed that her parents, while not dead, were both in St Mungos for sever spell damage treatment, and her little brother with minor burns. She sat in the midst of the other first years, her eyes red rimmed and watery, the others forming some sort of protective shield around her, glaring at anyone who approached.

The older students were holding discussions amongst themselves, comparing various versions of the story. Harry found himself once more the subject if yet more unwanted attention, the mutterings and whispers that had just began to die down flaring up yet again.

Up at the teachers table several grave faced professors seemed to be discussing the news with equal fever. Professor Sprout was gesticulating widely every few moments, several times narrowly avoiding sending Professor McGonagall's glasses flying.

And many miles south, the news had reached other quarters.

HTCHB

"The Ministry want me to try and persuade you to take 24 hour protection." said Tonks bluntly. She, Lily, Cam and Molly Weasley were seated around the Potters kitchen table, Molly having appeared to return the leg-mite medicine, Cam having popped over for one of her many "chats".

"No." Lily shot back equally as fast. "No way."

Tonks sighed. "That's what I told them you'd say."

"It's nothing personal Tonks. Just…I know what 24 hour protection would mean. People hanging about all hours, not being able to leave the house without 48 hour warning…jack and Gemma being continually followed, watched in school…No, Tonks."

"It's for your own good," Tonks began the futile argument. "You lot at most likely top of the Death Eaters hit-list."

"They're not stupid, no matter how evil. They know what facing Harry did to Voldemort – Merlin only knows what an entire family of us could do."

"You won't win this one, Tonks." Put in the Cam. "I've seen Lily stand her ground over far more trivial matters. If she thinks her children are in danger, then she'll take your protection."

"Besides, weren't you meant to be a short term measure anyway?" added Lily.

"Yeah. Well, short term at the Ministry can mean anything from a few minutes to several years. Besides, I don't mind. Less paper work than most cases, although Alex and Nat probably think I've either died or eloped."

"Friends at work?" queried Lily.

"Yeah. Well, pretty much my only friends full stop, present company excluded, of course."#

Cam sighed. "I don't know what the world is coming to nowadays. When I was your age, a girl with your looks would be beating men off with a stick."

"Cam, you sound about 80." Lily pointed out with a grin.

They were an odd assortment, when you think about it. Cam, muggle, welsh, slightly old fashioned and amazingly perceptive. Molly, plump, motherly and bustling. Lily, fiery and temperamental. And Tonks, young, energetic and ever so slightly mad. And yet, somehow, over the past few weeks the four had found themselves coming together with increasing frequency, on such occasions as this Saturday, when various husbands and children were out and about, and there was a kettle on somewhere.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" asked Lily, leaning forward with interest. She had not forgotten her thoughts from their first few meetings with the young auror – indeed, careful observation over the past month had only fortified her initial thoughts – but it was best to be certain.

Tonks' sigh was all she needed.

"No." the morose looking woman sighed. "Not at the moment."

"But you like someone?" chimed in Cam, a gleam in her eye. Fate had robbed her of her own chance at this conversation with a child of her own, and so this was the next best thing.

Tonks fiddled nervously with a strand of hair, glancing over at Molly Weasley. The latter snorted.

"Don't look at me love, it's your choice."

"Remus." She said at last.

"Lupin?" asked Cam, sounding slightly surprised.

"How many Remus's do you think there are?"

Lily clapped her hands with glee.

"I knew it!" she cried, narrowly avoiding upsetting the tea. "How long for?"

Tonks took the look of an angst-ridden teen. "Ages."

"Idiotic, noble, self-sacrificing…" Molly began to mutter with a roll of her eyes.

"That's Remus." Nodded Lily wisely.

Tonks looked over at her suddenly, struck by an idea.

"Lily, you knew Remus at Hogwarts. Do know why…?"

"He's such a cloth-eared, noble idiot?" finished Lily with a smile. This conversation was reminding her of her Hogwarts days, when she, Jane and Liz would sit around and discuss anything from schoolwork to the Marauders until the early hours. It was nice to think that getting older didn't always mean growing up.

"Yeah. Well, I can guess."

All eyes turned to focus on her.

"When I was at Hogwarts, I had two best friends. Liz Franks and Jane Bassey. And Liz was in love with Remus from pretty much our first day, and the idiot refused point-blank to do anything about it, despite the fact that it was pretty obvious he liked her too."

Tonks nodded, keeping her face carefully neutral at the mention of Remus's old loves.

"I'm not sure exactly what happened…James and Sirius had a lot to do with it, I know. Those two could be very persuasive. But one day he just asked her out, out of the blue. They stayed together right through 6th and 7th year, and afterwards, right through until the night me and James…went away."

"So what happened to her?" asked Molly, a frown on her face. "Remus practically lived in Grimmauld Place last year, and never once did he mention a Liz. Or a Jane, for that matter."

"He wouldn't have done. I only know what he's told us, and then what James and I have guessed, but I know Liz was killed. Full Moon night, a few weeks after James and I went. Normally she'd stay with Jane, and then later with James and I, sometimes with Sirius. That night though, with us all dead, imprisoned or vanished…well, she'd have been on her own. Death Eaters, seeking revenge, I guess."

"And Remus has blamed himself ever since?" guessed Tonks with a wry smile. "Figures."

"D'you want me or James to talk to him?" offered Lily after a moment.

Tonks shook her head. "No. I'll sort it. Thanks, though."

"Ah, to be young again." sighed Cam, leaning back in her chair. Lily poked her.

"You're not 60 yet Cam." she pointed out with a smile.

"But I'll never see fifty again, wither." added the welsh woman.

"And neither shall I." put in Molly. "Worse thing shall happen. Be grateful you don't have children – then you definitely begin to feel your age."

Cams face went through a variety of expressions. Surprise, shock, sadness, before finally settling on a carefully practised blankness.

"Yes, well." She said, draining the rest of her tea. There was an awkward silence; Molly knew she had said something wrong, but wasn't quite sure what, while Lily knew what had been said wrong, and didn't quite know what to do about it.

"I'd best be going." said Cam, setting down her cup. "The horses. Thanks for the tea, Lily. It was lovely to see you all."

She smiled tightly and nodded at them, before disappearing out the door.

"What did I say?" asked Molly, turning to face Lily.

Lily sighed. "Cam used to have a daughter." she explained miserably. "Long before we knew them. Her name was Gwen. She died of leukaemia when she was fourteen."

"Oh my…" Molly gasped. "I didn't know."

"How could you have?" pointed out Tonks with a sigh.

"Normally, it's alright." continued Lily. "But…well, it'll be the anniversary of her death in a couple of weeks. Gets harder for her around this time of year."

"Poor child." sighed Molly. "Dying at that age…hardly even a life."

"I think that's part of the reason Cam fought the authorities so hard to be allowed care of James and I." said Lily thoughtfully. "We're about the same age as Gwen should be, give or take a year. And Cam needs someone to mother, it's her nature."

"I should go and apologise." said Molly, getting to her feet.

"Give her a while, Molly." Lily halted her. "Let her have a moment to sort herself."

Molly nodded, and sat back down again.

"Well." said Tonks with a tight smile. "That's me decided anyway."

Molly and Lily both turned to look at her curiously.

"Rules of life. Don't fall in love. Don't have friends. Don't join secret underground orders with the aim of fighting dark wizards. Definitely do not have children. Live the life of a hermit, and you'll spare yourself a life time of pain and worry and fear and sadness."

She was smiling as she spoke, but there was a certain edge of truth in her tone.

"Ah, but think of what you'd miss." pointed out Lily. "All the happy inbetweeny bits. That'd be a shame."

Tonks and Molly exchanged glances, amused bemusement written all over their faces. Later, Molly would cross the yard to speak to another new friend, and the welsh woman would cry onto the offered shoulder for all the things she had missed. And Tonks would return home to her flat, and think long and hard deep into the night, and reach a conclusion she wasn't altogether happy with. But for now, they sat, happy in each other's company.

* * *

So some of Cam's strange behaviour has hopefully been explained, and the world is being crumble once more…

See you all next week! And don't forget to drop a review!


	28. In Which Problems Start

So…erm, yeah…I didn't forget to update last week…or last night… Actually, last night I didn't forget – I wanted this proof reading, and my sister was in bed. And for the rest of this week she's in her school production of "Sound of Music", so this is still only half done since she had to rush off to get ready.

I smell most attractively of sheep tonight – I've been on work experience, lambing, which is rather good fun.

The people who's reviews were fun to receive were **Cyler Fharzhide, Kylara Kitsune, flower123, SweetSummerx3, Lady Potter of Tortall, Mei1105, Isis the Sphinx, PHEONIX39, Nessa19, seikinoko, ballerinadoll9, IngWild, dingohart, LostHeart4, Spirit HellFire, Morsmordre Justin-Tim-E Clara,** and **CasSE4evends.**

And on we go again!

* * *

"Come _on _Izzy!" Charlie cried, spinning round to grab his friend's arm. "We're late."

"Since when were you so bothered about Charms?" countered the huffing blonde, her arms full of the contents of her school bag. "It's not my fault my bag broke."

"The pair of you shut up!" snapped Jane, looking round. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't have a clue where we are."

The other two pulled up sharply, Izzy dropping her books yet again.

"What d'you mean, you don't know where we are?" Charlie gaped, looking around. "We're right by…near…"

"Lost." finished Jane.

"Well whoop dee do." snorted Izzy, gathering up her scattered belongings. "Great. That dammed staircase. Anyone got a map on them?"

"Oddly, no."

"Come on you two," Charlie pushed his way between the two girls. "We can't be that lost. We just need to turn round and retrace our steps."

Somewhat nervously, the three turned and began back the way they had come. Perhaps it was the fact that they were far away from any part of the school that they recognised, but the corridor suddenly seemed much longer and darker than it had done before. The windows were no more than narrow slits, allowing only the minimum of light in, which in a way only worsened the situation – the shadows created allowed young imaginations to leap to all sorts of conclusions.

"What was that?" Izzy spun round, narrowly avoiding taking out Jane with the corner of her charms book.

"What was what?" Charlie asked, peering into the dark.

"I…I thought I heard something."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing here but us and the spiders."

"I dunno, Charlie…I thought I heard something back there too." Jane's voice, laced with fear, countered the boy.

Charlie rolled his eyes, and attempted a laugh. It sounded hollow and mirthless, echoing down the stone walls.

"Honestly. Girls." He grinned, moving away from them and heading further down the corridor. "Scared of shadows."

Behind him, a young voice screamed.

HTCHB

Charlie spun round, but he had moved to far ahead – he couldn't see either of his companions. Fear gripping at him, he began to move back towards where the scream had come from. Another cry, in pain rather than fear this time, and a series of scuffles. Racing round the corner, he was greeted with the sight of at least two, possibly three, large shapes, and two smaller ones.

"Oi!" Charlie hollered, paused in his tracks. "What are you doing?"

Two of the large shapes turned to face him, moving away from the third. One of them held up a wand, and Charlie didn't think twice. He hurled towards the figure, throwing himself upon it. It didn't matter that he was only a first year, with barely two months magical training. He was a wiry, eleven year old, scratching and biting every time his mouth or hand made contact with anything. The being he was clinging too roared in anger, and Charlie felt something grab the back of his robes and pull him off. He landed with a thump, crashing into the wall. His arm twisted beneath him, and a most unnatural "crack" sounded from it. Shaken, he gingerly opened his eyes in time to see the largest of the figures crouch down in front of a much smaller one. The light, which suddenly sprung from the end of his wand, revealed it to be Izzy, her eyes closed and face pale. She was half propped against the wall, her leg stretched out beside her in a most un-natural angle.

"This one's out." It grunted, straightening up again.

Another light appeared, slightly to Charlie's left. It illuminated the shape of the person who held it – much smaller than the other two, the one who had stood back when Charlie had thrown himself upon the other two. Charlie turned his head slightly, trying to catch sight of the face, but all three were covered. The two he had attempted to attack had moved away, one each way along the corridor, as if the keep watch. The third, smaller man, however, had knelt down in front of the figure that must be Jane. She was lying across the corridor, as if struck down. To Charlie's surprise and horror, the small man reached out with one hand and touched her cheek, running a finger up and down. He turned his head slightly and saw Charlie's eyes fixed upon him.

"Pretty girl," he said, in a tone that could almost be regretful. "Just like her mother."

Charlie opened his mouth, ready to shout, to scream, anything to prevent the man from doing whatever he was about to do. The mans wand was extended towards the girls head, and, just for a moment, Charlie noticed two very strange things.

And then everything went black.

HTCHB

There was a knock at the door of the classroom. Professor Bassey looked up with a frown, looking over the bent heads of her working class to the closed door. Standing, she made her way between the rows of desks and opened the door. The terrified looking form of Molly Allan greeted her, sucking nervously on the end of one brown pigtail.

"Miss Allan?" The professor asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Please, Professor, is Harry in your class?"

"Harry Potter? Yes. Why?"

"It's his sister, Professor. She's in the hospital wing. Professor McGonagall sent me to get him."

A frown settled itself upon the teachers face as she turned back into the classroom, her eyes scanning the rows of heads, before finally resting upon a particularly messy, black haired one. For a moment she marvelled for the thousandth time at the amazing likeness between this boy and his father, and a rush of warm familiarity overtook her. And then someone coughed, and the moment passed.

"Mr Potter?" she called, and three heads turned to face her. She couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight as she continued. "Professor McGonagall would like a word."

Looking utterly perplexed, the teenager climbed to his feet and followed the obliging figure of Molly Allan down the corridor.

HTCHB

Harry gazed down at the still form of his sister, worry and anger battling it out in his head. On the bed the other side of her lay Izzy, equally unconscious, but without the rather spectacular bruise which now decorated his sister's forehead.

"I really dunno what happened." Charlie said, for the third time since the eldest Potter had arrived. He was lying in a third bed, the other side of Harry, his arm strapped to his chest. "I was only a little way a head, then suddenly someone was screaming."

"Did you see who it was?"

"No. Two were wearing masks, and I barely saw the thirds face. Adults though, definitely not pupils."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Harry sighed, pushing his glasses further up his nose and sinking back further into his chair.

"I just don't get it though," he said. "Why attack you three at all?"

"I dunno. It was strange though…" Charlie paused for a moment as he remembered the final moments before he had lost consciousness. "The third man, the smallest, seemed to be in change, and right at the end he was sort of crouched over Jane. I thought he was going to kill her – he had his wand out, pointed right at her. Only he didn't. He sort of stroked her face, and said something about her looking like her mum. And…"

Harry waited as the young boy yawned widely, the potions Madam Pomfrey had been forcing down his throat coming into effect.

"And…he had his wand lit, I guess so he could check how bad beat up the other two were. But as he leant over Jane, I got a quick glimpse of his face, and…"

"What?" prompted Harry quickly, before the child fell once more into sleep.

"He looked…almost sad. Regretful. Like he was sorry for what he'd done."

Harry shook his head.

"If he was sorry, why'd he do it then?"

"I dunno. But he definitely was. There was something else, too."

Harry restrained himself from shaking the answers out of the young boy as he yawned and closed his eyes again.

"His hand." Charlie murmured, sleep blurring his voice. "On his hand, the one holding the wand. He had two fingers missing."

HTCHB

Harry sat among the three unconsciouses first years, trying desperately to bring some sense his leaping thoughts. Madam Pomfrey had long ago disappeared back into her office, having checked Charlie was well and truly out, and the rest of the Hospital Wing was empty. It was taking a vast majority of his self-restraint to prevent himself from leaping to his feet and storming Dumbledores office – over and over in his head was a continual re-run of Charlie's last words. "Two fingers missing." And there was no doubt in Harrys mind as to whom that could be.

HTCHB

"We bought your stuff, Harry."

Hermione's voice shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see his three friends standing over him. The lesson bell must have rung, unheard by his ears.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, her face pale as her eyes travelled over the three motionless bodies.

"I don't know, really." Harry sighed, stretching his aching neck. "They were attacked, down one of the second floor corridors apparently. Charlie told me a little bit, but Pomfrey's potions made him fall asleep again."

Hermione settled herself into the chair next to Izzy, and Ron retrieved another chair to settle next to her. Ginny did the same, placing hers next to Harry, and for a while the four friends just sat there, gathered around the three beds.

"Have you seen Dumbledore?" asked Ron after a while.

Harry shook his head. "No. I dunno if he'll come down later, when they're awake."

"What's wrong with them?" Ginny asked, looking from the bruise on Jane's head, then turning slightly to examine the fairly unmarked Charlie on the other side of her and Harry.

"Charlie had a broken arm, and a few bruises. Madam Pomfrey gave him a potion to prevent shock, that's what's making him sleep. Izzy has a broken leg, and both she and Jane also have their fair share of cuts and bruises."

"So why are they unconscious then?" asked Hermione, a frown on her face. "Shock potion?"

Harry shook his head again, and a look of grim anger settled on his features.

"No. Pretty strong stunning spell. Possibly Cracius, although she's not sure."

"On first years?" Ron exploded, making Hermione jump.

"Mr Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey appeared instantly, brandishing her wand threateningly.

"Sorry." Ron quietened himself, but a very ugly look had taken up residence on his face.

"Who on earth could do that?" Ginny gasped, and Hermione reached out a trembling hand to touch Izzy's pale one, lying as it was above the covers.

"Pettigrew." Harry spat, venom lacing every letter.

"What?" Both Weasleys spoke as one, all three turning to gape at Harry.

"Charlie told me. Just before he fell asleep again, he said he caught sight of one of the attackers hands. It had two fingers missing."

"But why would Pettigrew want to run round attacking first years?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"Why would anyone?" pointed out Ron grimly.

"No, Pettigrew makes sense." Harry countered. "Think about it. Because of me, he's now lost everything twice over, so he hates me anyway. But then he finds out that my parents didn't actually die when they were meant to, and that's even worse."

"But why attack Jane? What's she done?"

"He's a coward. Knows he wouldn't stand a chance against anyone with much magical training – wouldn't want to risk being caught. And I'd be harder to catch unawares anyway, and even if he managed that, at least one of you lot would most likely be with me. But a first year…easy."

"But why Izzy then? And Charlie?"

"They got in the way." Harry shrugged.

"No…" Ginny's voice was thoughtful. "Maybe you're right, Harry, but there could be more to it. Pettigrew's a death eater, right? And so's Malfoy's dad. So it would make sense that Izzy's dad would be one to – she practically told us he is. So at one of the meetings, Pettigrew's moaning about the Potters, and Izzy's dad is moaning about her being put in Gryfinndor, and they guess the two will probably be friends, seeing as how they're in the same house and all, and so they plan to hit both at once. It makes sense."

Harry was about to answer when the sound of Ron's laughter made him pause.

"Sorry." the red head apologised quickly, trying to control his smile. "Just what you were saying Gin…the Death Eaters having a meeting, moaning at each other about their children and the price of dragon liver…"

"Bellatrix complaining over how hard it is to find a good hairdresser when you're on the run from the law." added Ginny, a smile spreading across her face.

Hermione caught Harrys eye, and the two exchanged fond smiles at the antics of the two Weasleys.

"How d'you think they got in then?" Ginny asked the room at large once she and Ron had calmed down again.

"If it was Pettigrew, he could have bought them up the passageway from Hogsmeade." pointed out Hermione.

"They'd have had to get across the grounds un-noticed. And find a way of getting Jane and Izzy alone."

"Not impossible though." sighed Ginny. "They're as bad as you three for wandering off on their own."

"If only the map had a sort of 'rewind and record' system." said Hermione thoughtfully. "We'd be able to see exactly who did it."

Both Weasleys began to open their mouths to inquire exactly what 'rewind and record' was, but they were cut off by the hospital doors swinging open once more. Cho, her face pale, hurtled through, hardly even taking in the four gathered around the beds as she headed straight for her brother.

"Oh _Charlie_." she sighed, sinking down into a chair the other side of her brother to Harry and Ginny. "What have you done this time?"

"I'm afraid, Miss Chang, that it is not so much what your brother has done to himself, but more of a case as to what others have done to your brother." Professor Dumbledores voice spoke from the doorway.

"What do you mean? What happened?" For the first time, Cho seemed to notice the presence of Izzy and Jane. "Why are they here too?"

"They were attacked." Harry explained again with a sigh. "All three of them."

"Attacked? By who?" Cho turned to the Headmaster, seeking some sort of explanation.

"That is what I came to hopefully find out." Dumbledore said, moving to his customary position at the foot of Jane's bed. "Alas, it seems our young friends are still asleep."

"It was Pettigrew." said Harry angrily, turning to face Dumbledore.

The old man's face remained impassive, but he said nothing. Harry took heart from this, and continued.

"Charlie told me, just before he fell asleep again. He caught sight of one of the men's hands. There were two fingers missing."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, looking mildly interested. "Indeed? That is strange."

"We have a theory Professor." added Ginny eagerly.

The old man smiled. "Believe me, Miss Weasley, when I say I am not surprised. Indeed, I would be most disappointed if the four of you had not managed to come up with at least one idea by now."

Ginny ignored the comment, plunging straight into their idea. Dumbledore listened without comment, but as she finished he smiled slightly.

"That is a very interesting idea." he said thoughtfully. "I shall have to look into it. Now," he straightened, and turned to face Cho and Harry. "Professor McGonagall has contacted both your parents, and they are on their way. Madam Pomfrey assures me all three shall be fine, with time, but may I suggest you leave it to her and myself to explain the circumstances? It would prevent confusion, especially considering none of us have a concrete idea of what has happened anyway."

The five teenagers nodded their consent, and after a few more minutes' conversation, the Headmaster left.

"They'll be ok?" Cho said. It was meant to be a statement, but somehow managed to come out a question.

"Course they will." said Hermione comfortingly. "Harry faced worse, and he's still here."

"How are they?" Yet another voice added itself to the mixture, and the five looked up once more to see Professor Bassey walking towards them. "Professor McGonagall told me what happened." She explained, seeing the confused looks on the faces in front of her. "I thought I'd come and see how they were."

"Madam Pomfrey says they'll be ok." said Harry, sighing.

"It would just be nicer if they woke up?" finished the Professor with a wry smile.

"Yeah. How d'you…?"

"Know that? I've sat here myself, you know, waiting for friends who have got themselves into the most ridiculous situations to get round to waking up again."

"Really?" Ginny asked, looking at the teacher with new respect in her eyes.

"Of course. One of my friends was a quidditch player, and even without that, they used to get themselves into the most ridiculous situations at times. Madam Pomfrey used to flinch every time she saw one of us coming."

"I know the feeling." said Ginny with a grim smile, glancing accusingly at Harry.

"Have you contacted your parents?" continued Bassey.

"McGonagall did." said Cho tiredly. "They're on their way."

"Coming? Here?" For some reason this seemed to agitate the teacher, for she instantly turned to Harry and asked, rather urgently, "Yours as well?"

"Yes," said Harry, surprised at her tone. "I think so. Why?"

"No reason." Now looking extremely agitated, Professor Bassey turned to leave. "I hope they all get better soon."

And she left; disappearing out the door as though the hounds of hell were behind her, and leaving five extremely confused teenagers behind her.

* * *

At last, a bit of action! I know it's been a long time coming, and there wasn't that much of it, but hopefully it will sustain you for another few chapters…

And my dad's just handed me this weeks radio times, with a 16 page special on the new Doc Who…so I'm off!

Review!


	29. In Which Tempers Fray

Opps…forgot to say last week that there would be a late update this week – I was in London yesterday to see Les Mis. Les Mis is great. London isn't. Gah. Hate that city.

The people I definitely do not hate are those who blessed me with their reviews of the last chapter: **Isis the Sphinx, Orion in the Sky, SweetSummerx3, RainingFlowers, dingohart, Phantom of a Rose, Mei1105, Estel A Duath, PHEONIX39, HeyLookTheSnitch, IngWild, seikinoko, ballerinadoll9, Nessa19, flower123, WeRtheWinx, Lady Potter of Tortall **and **Persephone of Peridot,**

So the ickle firsties have got themselves into trouble. Why is no one surprised?!

And my congratulations to all of you who are starting to guess the identity of our mysterious Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!

Oooh, an appeal to you all. Someone on this site has contacted me, asking for help with trouble they're having uploading stories. Apparently, they just cannot get the document upload page to work – they press the button, and nothing happens. Anyone else had experience like this, or know of a solution? Darn the lack of help/admin on here!

Anyway, on we go!

* * *

"I don't believe this."

To say James Potter was displeased would be an understatement. While his wife had a firey temper - quick to light and magnificent in its occurrence, yet normally passing fairly soon - he was far more laid back. Normally. Laid back, however, did not cover his reaction upon the discovery that his eldest daughter had been attacked and injured in the place they had all thought safest.

"James, calm down." Lily snapped, glancing about the platform. It was empty save a pair of people standing some distance away, too far to make out any distinguishing features, but Lily felt safe enough to bet they weren't the "escort" McGonagall had promised. Something told her that they would be far bigger and hairier, and would answer to the name of Hagrid.

"Calm down? Lily, our daughter has been attacked!" James gaped at his wife in astonishment. He had never been able to understand how his wife could always remain so calm in these sorts of situations – he himself would be running around in a panic by now if not for her calm presence.

"Yes, and you falling under the next train will not help that!"

"Lily, this is Hogsmeade. You're more likely to be killed by a small rabbit called George."

"Better keep your eyes peeled for the rabbits then." said Lily dryly, jerking her head towards the bend into the station, where another train was just pulling in.

"There's no way that could have hit me. I'm on the platform. See?"

"The way you keep jumping about, you'll be off it. There's Hagrid."

Relief flooding into her voice, Lily began to head towards the familiar figure, her husband quick on her heels. They had barely travelled a few meters before the pair were enveloped in a hug that could have flattened small children.

"Lily!" the being they were crushed against rumbled. "James! Yer alive!"

He released them, grasping Lilys shoulder with one hand and James's with the other and looking the pair of them up and down.

"I can't tell you how good it is the see the pair of yer again." he continued, a smile stretched across his beard.

"It's lovely to see you too, Hagrid." said Lily quickly. It was true – she truly loved the giant in front of her. But there were more important things playing on her mind right now.

"What's happened Hagrid?" James demanded before his wife could speak. "What's happened to Jane?"

Hagrid began to look distinctly uncomfortable.

"And Charlie? How's he?"

For the first time, James noticed another couple standing the other side of Hagrid, identical looks of worry plastered across their faces.

"There was some sort of attack in the school. Three students were injured, but all three have been treated, and are recovering well. And that's all I'm allowed to tell you."

"Hagrid…" Lily began, her voice pleading.

"Sorry Lily. Dumbledores orders. I'm not to say anything else until you've seen him."

He turned, and began striding towards the platform exit. Glancing uncertainly at each other, the two couples followed.

HTCHB

"Mr and Mrs Chang, Mr and Mrs Potter." Dumbledore greeted them with a sombre look at the door of his office. "Have a seat, please."

"What's going on, Dumbledore? Where's Jane?" Lily demanded, looking around the office as though Dumbledore had her hidden behind a curtain.

"Jane and Charlie are both in the hospital wing, but I assure you both are well on the mend."

"What happened?" The man James presumed to be Mr Chang leaned forward, studying the headmaster with a worried frown. "Why are they even in there to begin with?"

"As you may or may not know, your children have befriend each other over the past few weeks." Dumbledore began, looking gravely between the two sets of parents. "This morning it would appear that they and another student got lost on their way to their first lesson, ending up in a little used area of the school. While there, an unknown person or persons attacked them."

"What? Leapt out on them or something?"

"So far, none of them had said very much at all about what happened – all three have been in various states of unconsciousness for most of the day. Mr Chang, who appears to have been the least injured of the three, woke long enough to hold a brief conversation, but nothing more."

"But why on earthy would anyone want to attack a pair of first years?" Mrs Chang asked, her voice despairing.

Dumbledore spread his hands in bafflement.

"If I knew the answer to that, Mrs Chang, then I would be feeling a great deal happier at this moment in time. Was this a random attack by someone wishing to create terror and mistrust amongst the school, carried out by someone who may well strike again? Or was it a planned event, aimed at these three in particular?"

"Can we see them Dumbledore?" Lily's soft request interrupted the headmaster's musings.

"Of course." Dumbledore stood, smoothly pushing up his sleeves. "Follow me."

HTCHB

The opening of the hospital door made them all jump. A silence had fallen over the melancholy group of teenagers, broken only by the occasional sniff from Cho. Madam Pomfrey had appeared several times, a disapproving frown on her face at so many people in her Wing, but unable to do anything about it since there was technically only two visitors per invalid.

"Harry!" Lily Potter moved towards her son, who had stood upon hearing the doors open. She enveloped him in a hug, relief at seeing at least one of her children still able to stand on his own two feet.

Ron, Ginny and Hermione all stood as well, emptying their seats for the new comers.

"We'd best be off." said Hermione, ushering the other two towards the door. "We'll see you later Harry."

They left, leaving Harry, Cho, and two very concerned sets of parents.

HTCHB

Much later that evening, Harry finally made his way back to the Gryfinndor Common Room. As expected, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were all waiting up, happily settled in the armchairs by the fire.

"How are they?" Ginny asked as Harry approached.

He shrugged, settling down into a chair of his own. "Same. Pomfrey says not to expect any of them to wake up before tomorrow, but it's potion induced, not injuries."

"Sleeping it off." agreed Ron with a disconcerting wise-ness, earning him a glare from Hermione.

"And your parents?"

"Staying the night. Apparently there're guest quarters here."

Hermione snorted at the looks of surprise on both Ron and Harrys faces.

"Honestly. Where do you think the Minister stays? Or anyone else, for that matter, when they come to visit?"

"I dunno. Hogsmeade?" offered Ron.

"You two are hopeless."

"You've said."

A silence fell over the group, each wrapped up in quiet contemplation of their own thoughts.

"What d'you reckon Dumbledore'll do now?" mused Ginny aloud after a few minutes.

"What do you mean?" queried Hermione.

"Well, students attacked in school and all that. Last time they nearly closed us."

No one asked which occasion in particular Ginny was talking about – only one event in her past could cause her face to darken that way.

"Yeah. But it's been a one off so far." pointed out Ron. "Don't worry. Dumbledore'll have a plan."

"Plus, we know who did it." added Harry darkly. "And he was interested in Jane alone, Izzy too at most."

"D'you really think it was him?" asked Hermione.

"Who else? He'd have known how to get into school, up that tunnel, and how to get around."

"Most of the wizarding world has come through Hogwarts at some point Harry." Hermione said sensibly. "You can't base it on knowing their way round alone."

"And how many of them have two missing fingers?" Harry challenged.

"I'm not saying it wasn't Pettigrew – all the evidence points to the country. I'm just saying you shouldn't do anything rash."

Harry tried to look offended, and failed.

"When have I ever been rash?" he attempted, much to his friends amusement.

"You're right Harry. Of course. How could we even thing such a thing?" sarcasm dripped of Ginny's tongue.

"Seriously though." Hermione battled valiantly onwards, determined to get her point across. "Voldemort's gone again, but his supporters are still out there."

"Hermione, I don't go running round asking for trouble. Trouble just seems to come to me."

"She's your sister, Harry."

"I know, and if I ever see Pettigrew again than he's going to wish he'd ended up in Azkabam. But I'm not going to go out looking for him, I promise."

HTCHB

Jane Bassey made her cautious way through the sleeping school. What she was doing was stupid and reckless, and had given her a rush of adrenaline she had not felt since her teens.

The Hospital Wing was dark, only the dim lights of the central aisle left on. Even the ever faithful light from Madam Pomfrey's office was turned out at these hours, and as she slipped between the rows of unoccupied beds, Professor Bassey could not help but cast her mind back to other occasions when she had snuck up here. Visiting various friends for all manner of reasons. It seemed so trivial and long ago now, like they were memories belonging to another girl, and not this collected adult. Sometimes, she almost wished they were.

It was easy to find – the middle bed of the only three occupied in the entire place. Bassey slid into the seat that had occupied so many over the course of the day, and turned to face the girl lying beside her.

Her face was pale in the soft glow of dimmed lights, her mouth open slightly as she slept. The red curls spread out on the pillow behind her and the gentle sprinkle of freckles reminded Jane Bassey of another red-head who had once sat next to these beds so many times over, and she couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight.

"You look just like your mother, Jane." she whispered into the dark, her hand reaching out to touch that of the child. "Bet you never knew that. Not like your brother looks like James, that's uncanny. But you've got an air about you…not something you'd notice, I suppose, unless you'd known her like I did."

She sighed, rubbing the back of the young girls hand with her thumb as she let her voice trail off into her thoughts. It really was disconcerting, at times, teaching a girl who could be someone who was once one of her dearest friends. It was almost like there was some sort of mutant gene created when the Evans' bred with the Potters, resulting in all the boys looking like their father, and all the girls having their mothers personality.

Did anyone realise it, Jane wondered, asides from herself? She doubted it, somehow. Even Dumbledore had not known Lily well enough at the age of eleven to make the connection, and the only other person who might have realised it was long dead.

"Her eyes," Jane began out loud, her voice softly listing the similarities. "Her hair. Her freckles. Her smile, her laugh. Her good nature, and I suspect her temper. Her friendliness – you befriended Izzy Malfoy the way Lily befriended Liz and I. I just hope you don't have her ending. Or interval. Or whatever you want to call it."

She lapsed back into silence, finding some strange comfort in the hand she was clasping. So preoccupied was she with thoughts of her own, Jane Bassey did not hear the soft opening of the hospital doors, and nor did she hear the gentle foot steps heading towards her. It was only the soft "oh" of surprise which alerted her to someone else's presence.

"Sorry," came a painfully familiar voice, even hushed as it was. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you Izzy's mother?"

Jane kept her face carefully turned away. It would excruciatingly easy to agree to that fact, and to take her leave and go, but Lily had always been able to tell when she was lying, and Jane didn't want to see if she was still as astute.

"No," she admitted after a moment. "No, I'm the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Jane and the others are in my first year class; I thought I'd see how they were getting on. Wouldn't do to have three of my favourite students lying here, and me not to pop in on them once in a while."

"Thank you." said Lily sincerely, making Jane wince.

"I'll go, I should get some sleep before facing the third years in the morning."

"Oh please, don't feel you have to leave on my account." Lily held out a hand, touching the arm of the woman in front of her. Jane, who had risen so that her back was turned to the other woman, automatically began to turn to face her.

"No, it's no problem." she blurted, suddenly realising what she had done, and striding purposely past a stunned Lily Potter.

Lily frowned to herself as she took the now empty seat by her daughter's bed. Something was very odd about that Professor, and not just her apparent fear of Lily herself. Something about her…her voice, and the brief glimpse of her face Lily had seen…

Suddenly, as she sat among her unconscious daughter and her equally unconscious friends, Lily Potter was hit by an epiphany.

"Jane." she breathed, realisation dawning.

And she wasn't talking to her daughter.

* * *

Oooh! Hands up who saw that one coming/Looks around in dismay at forest of waving hands/ Ahh well. See you all next week, when Angry Lily strikes again. And please review! 


	30. In Which Secrets are Revealed

Another week has come and gone, with Easter and choclate and biscuits!!! And of course, revision. Oh the joys of 6th Form.

Those who's reviews awaited me at the end of every day's revision, and so meant I had something to look forward to, were **SweetSummerx3, Phantom of a Rose, flower123, Isis the Sphinx** (sorry, it shall be on it's way next Monday! Bank Holidays and music courses getting the way**…), Nessa19, Mei1105, Estel A Duath, seikinoko, Acelinn, dingohart, Anon e Mouse Jr, Lady Potter of Tortall, HappeeGoLuckee, Paddysecret, ballerinadoll9, helbaffy** and **HeyLookTheSnitch**

Ooooh, I have a competition for you all, inspired by candyk8. Thus far I've used HTCHB for my page breaks – she (or he, but I think she) suggested that it could stand for "Harry Tries Chasing Homicidal Bunnies". Therefore, every week I want you lot to suggest different sentences of the same initials for me to use, and they'll go inplace of HTCHB as a page break.

And on we go again!

* * *

Her ears woke first, tuning into the soft murmur of sound around her. Next came touch, causing her fingers to twitch slightly at the sudden presence of crisp sheets, and finally sight. It took several moments of thought for the brain to make the connection between the strange darkness and her currently closed eyes, but it got there in the end, and said eyes opened tentatively.

"Jane!" a man's voice broke the peaceful murmur, relief and surprise cutting through the air.

"Dad?" Jane mumbled sleepily, turning her neck slightly and squinting up at him. "What're you doing here?"

She never got an answer, however. The sound of the young girls voice had drawn the attention of the other figures, whom she had previously not noticed, and suddenly her slightly blurred eyesight was swamped with figures.

"How do you feel?" her mothers voice now, equally worried. Jane shifted her eyes slightly, and caught sight of a mass of red that could only be her mother's hair. She thought seriously for a moment before answering the question.

"Numb." she said thoughtfully. "Like I should hurt. But I don't."

"You're on a heavy pain potion, Janey." Lily said soothingly, stroking her daughter's forehead.

"And my eyes are all blurry, too." Jane continued, squinting at the pink blob that was her mother's head.

"You've been out for nearly 24 hours, love." her fathers voice this time, soft and explaining. "The light'll have startled them."

"I'd offer you my glasses, but I doubt they'd help."

"Harry?" Jane frowned, her eyes slowly focusing on the various heads around her.

"Hello."

"What happened?"

There was a silence, during which Jane could almost hear the looks her parents were exchanging.

"You were attack, love." explained Lily at last. "You and Charlie and Izzy."

"Are they ok?"

"They're both in here too, but they'll be fine."

"Who did it?"

She was whispering, although she wasn't sure why, and her parents could only shake their heads and sigh. But Jane's eyes went beyond her parents, and finally focused in on Harry, sitting down at the end of her bed. His face was a careful mask, for the first time Jane could remember completely blank, except for his eyes. They seemed to almost glow with an anger that told Jane all to well he knew exactly what had happened, and quite possibly who had done it. And boy were they going to pay.

**HarryTriesChasingHomicidalBunnies**

"It was her, James, I swear it."

"Lily, Jane left well over 15 years ago! Sirius found her wand, nothing even remotely connected to any of us was touched in her fault…why on earth would she suddenly be teaching Defence against the dark arts in Hogwarts?"

"I don't know!"

James sighed. "I just think you could be getting a bit carried away love. What proof do you have?"

"I saw her."

"Yeah, but last time you saw her was nearly 16 years ago. You've faced four children, Voldemort and memory loss since then."

"Are you implying that I may be loosing my mind, James Potter?" Lily swept round to face her husband, a dangerous look in her eye. It was much later on of the same day Jane had woken, and she and her husband had finally left their daughters side, safe in the knowledge that the end of the school day had bought Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny back once more.

"No, dear." James said pleadingly. "I'm implying that you've had a fairly traumatic few weeks, and you're maybe clasping a little desperately at straws. You've got Harry back, made contact with your sister, Remus…why not throw Jane in there as well?"

"James! I'm not making it up, I'm not going mad, and I'm going to see Dumbledore!"

James barely had a moment to react as his enraged wife began to stalk towards the doorway of their small room, one of few within Hogwarts used for visitors.

"No!"

Lily span round once more, her hand on the doorknob.

"Why not?"

"You can't just go storming into Dumbledores office, demanding information about a teacher who may or may not be your long lost best friend!"

"If it were Sirius, you would be."

James hissed sharply.

"Sorry." Lilys voice instantly softened as she corrected herself. "I'm sorry. That was low."

"If it were Sirius, I'd know I was either dead or delusional." James said with forced calm.

"Exactly! You know he's dead, people saw him die. With Jane I don't know, it's like this great gap nagging in my head."

James sighed, remembering part of the reason he had loved Lily-then-Evans from the moment he met her. She was stubborn, she was annoying, she spoke without thinking and boy did she have a good slap. But earn her love, and she loved you and stayed loyal to you for life. Always trying to see the good in people. Felt and worried about things far too much.

"If it really is Jane, love, then Dumbledore isn't the person you need to go and see." He said at last, realising his wife would go stir crazy until she knew the answer. "Lets go see if the Defence classroom's moved."

**HarryTriesChasingHomicidalBunnies**

"How're you feeling?" Hermione said as she slipped into the now empty seat beside Jane's bed. The little girl groaned.

"I wish you'd all stop _askin_g me that!" she moaned, thumping her head hard against the pillow.

"Being hurt doesn't suit her." observed Charlie seriously from his bed, the other side of Hermione. He was propped up against the bed board by a vast quantity of cushions, Cho seated loyally besides him. Some unspoken consensus had been reached between parents and their respective children, and so the older siblings and various friends were alone for a while to do whatever it was young people did when confined to the Hospital Wing.

"Trust a boy to like being waited on hand and foot." countered Jane with an evil smile.

"Hey!" Ron looked indignant, making both Ginny and Hermione snort.

"Oh come on, Ron. 4th year ring a bell? 'They surprised me, with their spears and stuff, but I had my wand up my sleeve…'?"

Ron, rather obediently, went red at Hermione's accusations, while Ginny smiled rather satisfactorily.

"I think it's a Potter traight." she said, grinning over at Harry. "Harry's the same."

"I've seen enough of this room to last me a lifetime." protested the eldest Potter. "When I've spent as long in here I as have, then you can see how much you like having chocolate constantly shoved down your throat."

"I think it's mum." said Jane decisively. "Dad always makes a fuss when he's ill, but mum tries to pretend she isn't."

"My mum's always ill." Izzy said quietly. She had said little since waking some hours earlier, and so everyone instantly turned at the sound of her volunteering information. "She takes about ten potions every night."

"Voluntarily?" gaped Harry, thinking of all the potions he had had forced down his throat over the years.

"Yeah. Claudia tried one once, she got purple spots all over her face."

"Sounds lovely." said Cho wryly, helping herself to one of the Bertie Botts beans in the box by Charlie's bed.

"It was funny." agreed Izzy, with an uncharacteristic giggle. "She thought it was to make her hair blonder."

Jane giggled at the thought of the snotty-faced, vain Claudia covered in an array of colourful blemishes, and then winced as her ribs protested at the movement.

"You alright, Jane?" asked Harry, catching the look of pain that flicked across her face.

"'M fine." she said, shifting slightly in the bed. "Me ribs don't like laughing though."

"They were quite badly bruised." Hermione explained with a nod. "Over exertion will mess them up for a few days."

"What happened to us?" Charlie asked seriously, looking from his sister to the others. "Mum and dad just said we were attacked. I remember seeing Jane and Iz on the floor, and some man…"

Harry sighed, racking one hand through his hair.

"I was sort of hoping you'd be able to tell us." he admitted. "You were just found, lying in the corridor."

"Something wrong with the staircase." added Hermione. "One of them had been spelled to always go to the same landing, so Flitwick was sent up to sort it out. He found you."

"I remember the staircase." Jane said. "I thought we'd just miss-judged the right landing, since it was moving like normal. Guess we got off at the wrong one."

"Someone grabbed me from behind." said Izzy softly. "I think I screamed."

"You did." Charlie nodded. "That's what made me turn back."

"It hurt."

"I just wish I knew why anyone would want to do something like this." sighed Ginny, Cho nodding in agreement. "Some sort of sense, to them if not to us."

"We did this." Hermione pointed out patiently. "And we got nowhere."

"No." contoured Harry. "We got somewhere, just need to keep going on from there."

**HarryTriesChasingHomicidalBunnies**

"Do we knock?" James wondered aloud as they faced the shut door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts office.

"No." said Lily through gritted teeth. "It was her, James, I know it was."

"Right. But that doesn't mean this is her office." And before his wife could protest, he reached out and rapped sharply on the door.

"Come in," came the voice from inside, and, with a smirk at her husband, Lily entered.

**HarryTriesChasingHomicidalBunnies**

"Told you." were the first words out of Lily Potters mouth once they were both inside, the door shut smartly behind them. The woman sitting at the desk had turned to look at them upon entry, gone pale and opened her mouth in unspeakable shook.

James gaped at the woman at the desk, matching shock all over his face.

"Hello Lily." the woman said, sounding tired and resigned. "James."

"You _bitch!" _cried Lily, barely restraining herself from the slapping the object of her anger. "You bloody bitch!"

This was an anger beyond that she held for her sister, whose actions she may not like but could at least understand, in a way. This was beyond the anger she had felt for Molly Weasley, who had, in the end, proved herself above and beyond in Lily's eyes. This was an anger of the ultimate betrayal, an anger lasting over seventeen years still boiling fresh.

"You left us! We thought you were dead, or captured, or chopped into a thousand pieces and fed to piranhas!"

"Lily…"

"Just disappeared! No word, no warning…we were worried sick!"

"Lily…"

"Driving ourselves mad with guilt, wondering every day what had happened to you! A note? A few seconds to scribble something down, just so we knew you were alive? Is that too much?"

"LILY!"

Stunned, the red head fell silent. Professor Jane Amelia Bassey stood, moving around her desk to stand in front of the girl who had once been her closest friend.

"Sorry, " James apologised. "She's had a hard day."

Jane looked over at him, unsmiling and placid. James's tone had been light, but there was anger in his face and in his eyes that told her he was far from happy with the either. Which was exactly why this meeting was not meant to be taking place.

"So what, you were just gonna pretend we didn't exist?" spat Lily, and Jane realised she had spoken the last thought out loud.

"No. I was going to leave you be."

"Leave us be? Jane, you disappeared for over seventeen years! And we've missed you for nearly two of them!"

A frown flickered across Jane's face for a moment.

"Oh. Amnesia." she said, comprehension dawning.

"Is that all you can say? We'd like an explanation, if you don't mind. Remus too, for that matter."

"And if I don't want to give one?"

"You don't have a choice."

The two women turned to gape at James, who had remained silence throughout the exchange.

"What? I think we have a right to know. What you want to do after that is up to you, but some sort of understanding would be appreciated."

"How did you know it was me?" asked Jane, attempting a stall while she gathered her thoughts.

Lily snorted. "You're not that easy to forget. I thought I recognised your voice anyway, but when I saw your face…you've cut your hair."

Startled, Jane self-consciously ran a hand through her hair. Dark brown in colour, it had once rested well down her back, occasionally brushing the floor when she sat down, but now hung in a respectable ponytail, barely past her shoulders.

"Yeah."

"I can't believe Dumbledore didn't tell us." Lily muttered next. "He must have known since the summer at least."

"When he first approached me about the job, none of us knew you were still alive. When I found out, I asked him not to tell you."

"Well?" Lily looked at her expectantly.

"Come into my rooms. It's a long story, and we'll be more comfortable in there."

Shrugging at her husband, Lily followed. It had better be a ruddy good tale.

* * *

Ho hum. High School Musical's on the television. Again. I keep seeing the same random blond cheerleader over and over again. Hmm.

Having never been knocked unconscious, I'm not sure what waking up from that is like. However, I have been under anaesthetic, and so I presumed to two would be pretty similar, and wrote what I remembered from that instead.

Remember the random sentences for next chapters page breaks! HTCHB!

And, as always, review!


	31. In Which Jane Explains

Could it be? I'm updating on a Monday? Twice in a row? Shock!

Those who's lovely reviews it was a pleasure to recive were **Magicslifer, SweetSummerx3, Isis the Sphinx, Tia-Mariposa-Ryburn, candyk8, Orion in the Sky, ballerinadoll9, Abbey Eileen, Phantom of a Rose, seikinoko, Michelle Kent, grimlock78, helbaffy, HeyLookTheSnitch, HappeeGoLuckee, rosalily, dingohart, tiggerbaby2430, flower123, Len87, Cyler Fharzhide, LostHeart4, tickledorange, Lady Potter of Tortall** and **Kylara Kitsune.**

This one was a tricky chapter...I knew what I wanted to be said, it was just finding the words to say it. Meh.

And…the winner of the page break competition for chapter 31 is…drum roll…yet again, **candyk8**, with "Hermione Tensly Claws Harrys Bed Spread."

* * *

"You remember that year?" began Jane slowly, weighing each word as it was spoken.

Lily rolled her eyes. "No. Of course not. The year my first child was born, the year Dumbledore told us about the prophesy, the year my best friend disappeared and left us all thinking she was dead…totally wiped from my memory."

"Much as I love your sarcastic tongue, Lily, do you think you could humour me at least for a few moments? It's a hard story to tell, let me do it in my own way."

Lily folded her arms, perched on the very edge of the battered old sofa. James placed a placating hand on her knee, regarding Jane with a cold look.

"We're waiting, Jane. I can understand the rest – even Peter's betrayal, cruel and dark as it was, has some mode of reason to it, at least to him. But abandonment, especially from you…that I need explaining."

"I…the war was in full fling. You lot didn't see it like I did…we were the first on the scene after an attack, the first called up when there was threat of danger. I guess it started about a month after Harry was born – I dunno if you remember, but I was called away in the middle of a visit to you two, to respond to reports of an attack in Birmingham?"

Lily and James both shrugged, unable to distinguish that occasion from the numerous others when their auror friend had been forced to leave their company in the name of duty.

"Well, when I got there, it was the same as any other attack. People running about, shouting, screaming, the Death Eaters swarming over the street like ants…we were told to check all the houses, for living, dead and Death Eaters. The first house I went into was empty, but in one of the bedrooms there was a baby, crying on the bed, and a dead girl lying on the floor next to him. His mother or his sister, I don't know. I went to pick up the baby, when there was this noise behind me, and suddenly there was a Death Eater in the doorway."

"He must have been in one of the other rooms. He saw me, and the dead girl, and the baby, and before I could move, he had out his wand and just…killed it. A tiny baby. Barely an hour before, I'd been with you, holding Harry, who was alive and safe and happy, and here was this child who'd never be anything again…I didn't even think…he was just turning his wand to me, and I just…I killed him. And then I walked out, went on to the next house."

Lily's eyes took a look of dawning comprehension. "You came back to ours afterwards." she remembered. "Didn't say anything. Just went up to Harry's cot, picked him up, and sat with him for hours."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell us what had happened? You shouldn't have-" Lily began, her tone swaying between horror and confusion.

"You don't understand Lily! I saw things that year that no one could ever understand unless they'd been there too! Sometimes the thing you need most is to be able to hold something so new and innocent, a proof of why you need to keep doing what you're doing."

"But you didn't. You left." Voice colder than Jane had ever heard it before, James turned an accusing eye to her.

"I'd never killed anyone before. It scared me, the knowledge that I'd taken someone's life. That I had the power to do so. And it just kept getting worse…more attacks, more frequently, more casualties, more deaths…I was barely 21! I'd been out of school for maybe three years, and all I could see were friends and people I knew being killed! And then – well. I dunno. Christmas, and we barely saw each other for an hour. And then John was killed…I'd promised mum and dad I'd look after him, and see how that turned out? My brother was dead, and it felt like it was my fault"

"I was sitting bed a few days after New Years, remembering Hogwarts and those first couple of years afterwards, when the war was still not really a war at all, and I could go over and see you guys or Sirius or Liz or anyone whenever I wanted…I suddenly missed what had been our normality so much that it hurt. 'Cause I couldn't see us ever getting back to it – it was a closed book, no return ticket. I was fighting in a war, the outcome of which could never be what I wanted. And the most sensible thing to do seemed to be to leave. You lot would be ok without me, I was sure, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I told myself it would only be a short holiday, maybe a week of normal muggle life…but a week turned into a month into a year, and suddenly I couldn't go back. I went to Gringotts, got out the rest of my gold, bought a final copy of the Prophet, and left. Read about the deaths of four of my best friends, and the betrayal of the fifth, in a newspaper article."

There was a silence as she finished, Lily and James neither moving to comfort the distraught woman, nor leaving in disgust.

"You know, I suppose, about Sirius?" asked James at last, his tone flat.

"Dumbledore told me when he found me."

"And even when you read all that…about us all being dead, about Remus being all on his own…you didn't think to go to him?"

"I couldn't! I'd run because I was scared of what my world was becoming…I couldn't come back for fear of the contempt those I loved would show me. Why do you think I tried so hard to avoid you?"

"You still took the job, though."

"I'd already agreed to it when I heard of your return. I wasn't about to let Dumbledore down, not again. I just had to hope Harry, and when I saw her, Jane, would never mention my name to you. Why did you call her Jane, by the way?"

"Don't take it as a compliment, we had no idea of any of our Hogwarts friends when she was born. Just liked the name."

"Look…Lily…I know it won't mean much to you now, but…I'm sorry. I was young and stupid and scared, but so were you all, and I never thought to see it."

"No Jane. You're right in one respect – you did see far more of it than the rest of us, and none of us ever thought about that."

It was the first thing Lily had said which hadn't involved sarcasm, raising her voice or angry words, and Jane allowed herself a moment of hope. Her friend had never been one to hold back on saying what she thought, and even that small admission meant a lot.

"So what made you come back then?" James queried, sounding uninterested in any answer.

"Dumbledore. Dunno how he found me, but he did. Turned up on my doorstep one evening, I nearly slapped him. Said he was desperate, needed a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher urgently, and would I be interested, as if he didn't know I'd had nothing to do with magic for the past seventeen years. Promised me no one else could remember one disappearance amongst so many so long ago, and…well…I was a senior manager in Tesco's, for Christ's sake! I had some of the best OWL and NEWT results of our year, and the best job I could get was managing spotty faced teenagers!"

"So nothing to do with you missing any of this then." pointed out Lily dryly, and Jane had the decency to blush.

"Maybe…a little. And I can't say the idea of seeing Harry, of being some part of his life again…maybe some small part of me was hoping to begin to regain some of what I had lost."

"Took your time about it." muttered James.

Both women turned to him, Jane tight lipped and Lily, for once, silent.

James took a deep breath. His wife, he could see already, was beginning to warm once more to her old friend, and he couldn't say he blamed her. After all, she had returned to her old life to discover the loss of both of those closest to her, while he at least still had Remus. But he was far less easily satisfied.

"Did you think, Jane, in all your years of wallowing in self pity, just what might have happened to the final member of our old group?"

Jane closed her eyes and sighed. "Remus."

"Who else? He lost everything that year, Jane, everything he had left. He would have been blaming himself for everything, especially after Liz died. And he'd have had no-one to shake any sense into him."

Jane smiled slightly. "Seventeen years and a bout of amnesia, and you've not changed a bit. Still loyal and protective to a fault."

"Have you seen him Jane? What am I saying, you can't have done. He's aged about forty years in half that time. And if you'd tried, if you'd been bothered, you could have helped him."

"I was so twisted myself, I doubt I could have helped myself, let alone anyone else."

"Oh come on Jane, stop making excuses. You may not know him as well as I did, but surely you remember how much just being there meant to him."

"As if he'd have even wanted to know me. I ran away James! I was a coward! Remember how you lot used to tease Peter? Well I kept picturing that, but with me, and far, far more serious."

"As if Remus would have ever done that. He needed you Jane, all those times he was there for us, and the one time he truly needed a friend you weren't there! You were the only one around to help him, and you failed."

Jane's eyes turned to her knees, her palms disappearing into the folds of her robe.

"I know. I can't tell you how sorry - "

"Yeah, but it's not me you need to tell, is it." said James bitterly. "It's Remus."

And he stalked from the room.

Jane collapsed slowly back into her seat, eyes shut.

"I missed you." she said, glancing up at Lily. "Honestly. But by the time I realised how much…it was too late."

"I know." Lily sighed, her voice soft. To her surprise, much of the anger from her earlier rampage seemed to have burnt out, leaving her feeling only deflated and tired. How had her life turned into such a mish-mash of occurrences and tragedies and chances? Fate had always given to her openly with one hand, while sneakily taking away with the other when she wasn't looking. She gained a whole new world, but lost the love of her sister. She gained a husband and then a child, and lost far too many friends to be counted. She lost a life and a son, and gained a new family. She gained her old life, but began to loose the closest friend she had. She gained an old friend, and lost, for the moment, her good opinion of her. Give and take, all the time. Tug of war, tug of life.

**HermioneTenselyClawsHerry'sBedspread**

Remus stood in the entrance to the Three Broomsticks, coat tight around him against the late October wind. The firecall he had received from James barely 30 minutes before had been brief, confusing, and slightly worrying. All he had got from it was that James wanted him here, now, and no, Jane was fine. Which still left an awful lot of scope for one's imagination, particularly when the antics of at least two other Potters could be taken into account.

"Remus!" His friends voice made him turn, in time to see the now familiar figure striding towards him.

"James! Is everyone alright? What's happened?"

"Jane's well on the mend, and everyone else is fine. Come in here, you're going to need a drink."

Even more confused than he had been five minutes previous, Remus obediently followed his friend. This was evidently not the first time James had paid a visit to the pub – although the ever-lovely Rosmerta offered him a beaming smile, she did not rush over to hug, slap, pinch or gawp at the man, all of which had been reactions on other first-meeting occasions.

"Here." James passed over a bottle of warm butterbeer, which Remus accepted gratefully.

"So what's happened?" Remus asked at last, when it became apparent that James would not begin of his own accord.

"We've found Jane." James said bluntly, putting down his bottle.

Remus blinked. "I didn't know you'd lost her." he said at last. "I know she was hurt, but - "

"Not that Jane. Old Jane. Liz and Lily's Jane."

Remus's eyes widened.

"Jane Jane?"

"Yeah."

"And she's alright?"

James frowned at the eagerness in his friend's voice.

"Remus, she abandoned you for 17 years, and you're worried about her health?"

"Well for all I know she could have been held captive, or be another victim to amnesia, or Merlin knows what!"

"She ran away. Got frightened, decided she couldn't take it anymore. Just upped and left. Cut off all her ties with the magic world."

"How and where on earth did you find her?"

James smiled bitterly. "Hogwarts. She's been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts since September."

"I though you said she ran away."

"She did. Dumbledore found her, she decided it was time to come back."

"Thank god she's ok."

James stared at his friend incredulously. "That's all you can say? 'Thank god'? Remus, she abandoned you! She was the only one left who could have been with you those months after October, and she didn't bother! Aren't you even the slightest bit mad at her?"

Remus looked surprised at his friends accusations.

"Why should I be mad at her? How could she have known, with no ties remaining to the wizarding world?"

"She came back, just once, to empty her Gringgotts vault. Bought a paper, read about it in there."

"And you think I should be mad at her?"

"Of course! You sounded so cross, that night when you were telling Lily and I what had happened to the others. I thought you…well, I thought you really hated her."

"James, you forget. I would not have been the only one suffering the very sudden and rapid loss of all those I held dear. And I at least was spared the pain of reading about it in a newspaper."

James shook his head. "You're far too nice for your own good, Mooney." he sighed.

"I know. Now, how is young Jane doing?"

**HermioneTenselyClawsHerry'sBedspread**

Lily wandered through the dark corridors of Hogwarts. It was late – gone midnight – but she couldn't sleep. James had still not returned from wherever he had stormed off to earlier. She had visited Jane, stayed until Madam Pomfrey had ushered all visitors out once more, and now, at a loose end, she prowled the floors. Somehow, without her head really realising what it was doing, her feet had managed to settle themselves on what had once been a very familiar route, and she suddenly found herself facing a very familiar portrait.

"The password's mincemeat." came a voice, and Lily turned to see Jane walking towards her. "Give her a poke, and she'll let us through."

Slightly bemused by her friend's matter of fact statement, Lily did as she was told, and, sure enough, the portrait swung open with a sleepy grunt from its occupant.

At first glance, the common room had not changed in the twenty or so years since Lily had last stood in it. Same old arm chairs and sofas, which seemed to have been suspended in a state of comfy battered-ness sometime in the past two decades. Same tables, same hangings, same notice board, albeit with different notices. The fire was dying in the grate, the last of the embers battling on for a few more minutes of heat, giving the room an air of comfort that Lily remembered from her school days.

"I've come up here a lot this year." Jane admitted, settling down in one of the good chairs by the fire. "Late, when everyone's in bed. S'nice."

"Yeah." agreed Lily, sitting opposite and pulling her legs underneath herself. "D'you remember how much we missed this place, that first September?"

"'Course. Liz and I came over to yours one weekend, Liz bought brownies, and we all stayed up half the night alternating between crying and laughing."

Lily grinned. "And then the next morning all the boys appeared too, and we all went out together. Sirius bought you that stupid hat."

"Yeah."

They smiled at each other, lapsing into a friendly silence that was broken only by the opening of the portrait hole. Both women sprung upright, feeling oddly guilty at being caught in their old haunt. However, instead of the disapproving face of Professor McGonagall, or even the confused look of some new student they both expected, they came face to face with two very surprised looking men.

"James? Remus? How on earth did you get in?" gaped Lily.

"Wouldn't be much of a marauder if we couldn't get through a measly portrait without the password now, would we?" said James with a shrug and an easy smile. "What are you two doing up here?"

"Probably the same as you." Pointed out Jane. And then, turning to the second man, "Hello Remus." Her voice was both wary and apologetic at the same time, and Remus couldn't help but smile at how wrong it sounded coming from this person.

"Jane." he grinned, engulfing her in a hug that wiped away any fears on her account of his anger.

**HermioneTenselyClawsHerry'sBedspread**

They stayed up well into the early hours, sitting once more around the fire and exchanging stories of far and recent past. They had unconsciously taken their customary seats from long ago, and the gaps now there did not go un-noticed, if uncommented.

And as they sat, talking and laughing in hushed tones, something inside these four people healed. Years of loneliness, of uncertainty, of fear and loss, began to fall away, and as the ghosts of times long gone were resurrected, so the demons of present day began to fall.

**HermioneTenselyClawsHerry'sBedspread**

_The fire lights the room with a merry light, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The Gryfinndor Common Room is, as ever, crowded and noisy, but none are as noisy as the group of seventh years packed into chairs around the fire. A small, plumpish boy with a look of permanent worry on his face sits on the rug facing a taller, brown haired boy over a chess board. The taller boy appears to be teaching the smaller, for his face is patient, and his movements slow. _

_Behind the brown-haired boy sits a girl, a book in hand. Her blond hair is tucked neatly out the way, fastened in a bun behind her head, although several wisps have escaped this late on in the day. Although the book is open, she does not appear to be reading; indeed, her eyes flicker with great regularity to the taller of the chess players, a smile continuously playing around the corner of her mouth. _

_On the sofa behind the plump boy sit two more, red haired girl and black haired boy, she leaning contentedly against he as they each observe the goings on around them, occasionally turning to smile and exchange a few words with each other. The main source of noise, however, comes from the second armchair, situated directly across from the blond girl. A handsome boy, with carefully messed up hair and an evil grin, is battling it out over rights to the seat with a tall, slender girl with an amazing river of waist length brown hair. _

_Both are shouting at each other with apparent merriment, the slaps and punches given out with little attempt at causing actual pain. The boy scoops up a cushion, aiming at the girls head. She shrieks, throwing out her arm, and in doing so knocks the cushion from his hands. It scatters the chess pieces, causing violent protest from the two players, one of whom seizes the cushion and throws it back. Within seconds the entire group has descended into a melee of cushion-throwing madness, every man and woman for themselves. _

_One more precious happy evening, for those who, unknowingly, have so few left.

* * *

_

Done and done. Again.

Random fact: I was on a residential music course last week, and the dormitory I was staying in was called Gringotts. Except they spelt it wrong.

So…review! And entrants needed for next weeks page break! Random sentence with the initials HTCHB!


	32. In Which Ron Gathers his Courage

Smite and darn the alert system! Down again! So review replies were late, and I didn't update last week. Sorry on both counts.

Those whose reviews it was a pleasure to recive, despite the latensss, were **Kylara Kitsune, SweetSummerx3, Everstar Down, Desperate Darkness, Isis the Sphinx, Lady Potter of Tortall, Olaf Erikson, Gaze of the Sea, Darkingfire, PHEONIX39, ballerinadoll9, dingohart, helbaffy, seikinoko, candyk8, tickledorange, jlyric Ethereal Flame** and** tiggerbaby2430.**

Ok. So. My exams start in two weeks. Big exams – these are the grades I present universities with when I'm applying next year. So writing isn't foremost in my mind right now…I'm still going to aim to update every Monday, give or take the odd one, but chapters may get shorter for a while. And plot and writing standard may well fall at the same time. Sorry.

And this chapter has a dedication, too! To **Phantom of a Rose** – the first scene, just as you asked for.

And this chapters page break is… HelpToCleanHarry'sBedroom, from **Darkingfire**.

* * *

Three days passed, and it was time for the parents to leave. All three first years were being discharged, much to the relief of Madam Pomfrey – none were the most patient of patients, and having three incompliant eleven year olds climbing the walls was not her idea of a good hospital. They gathered for a final time in the Hospital Wing, Jane, Izzy and Charlie bouncing on the ends of their beds in anticipation. Lily was trying desperately to make her daughter promise to at least try to stay out of trouble (pleas which were being pointedly ignored by both her son and daughter), Mrs Chang making the same plea to her son a bed away. Throughout the entire exchange, jokey and maternally centred as it seemed, was the undercurrent of true, deep-set and justified worry.

"Cho, promise me you'll keep an eye on him!" Mrs Chang begged at last, when it became apparent her son wasn't really listening at all. Cho merely laughed, and shrugged, but James Potter, waiting while his wife finished her lecture, suddenly perked up. He turned from Jane to Harry to Cho, a knowing look in his eye.

"Ahh…" he mused aloud, causing his wife and children to all turn their attention to him. "So Harry. _This_ is Cho."

Never in his life had Harry been so happy to see Hagrid, arriving to escort the parents to the train.

**HelpToCleanHarry'sBedroom**

With November came the first quidditch match on the Gryfinndor timetable, against Slytherin. The day dawned cold but clear, a pale sunlight falling through the windows of Hogwarts. It took Harry several minutes to persuade Ron to even leave the Dormitory – pale and nervous, he miserably trailed after Harry, and jumped at small noises. Hermione tutted as the pair arrived in the Great Hall, and began piling food onto a plate, before unceremoniously dumping it in front of the unhappy Weasley. Ginny, who looked perfectly cheerful, caught Harry's eye over her own bowel of cereal, and the pair shared a quiet smile at quite how Mrs Waesley-ish their friend could be.

A few seats along, Jane and Charlie were striving with Izzy, wafting the various foodstuffs on offer in her general direction. But with Izzy it was more than pre-match nerves affecting her – this would be the first time she came into close contact with her cousin for several weeks, and the mere thought of it had rendered her speechless for the past twelve hours.

In the end, Harry and Ginny took pity on their fellow teammates, and extracted both Ron and Izzy from their respective friends. Annie and Sammy joined them, beaters awaiting their first match with the legend of Fred and George Weasley to live up to.

The air in the changing room was tense to say the least. It was possibly the least experienced team Gryfinndor had had for some years – only Ron, Katie, Ginny and Harry having ever played in a match before, and Ginny had changed positions since then. Ron sat in a corner, his face alternating between a series of interesting colours. Annie was counting under her breath, eyes closed it what could only be described as some sort of meditation. Sammy was squeaking nervously, winding up Izzy, who, sitting next to him, looked close to tears.

Harry shook his head – if they were this nervous before an ordinary match, Merlin only knew what they'd be like before the final. If they ever got that far.

All too soon, and all too long it was time for them to leave the relative safety of the changing rooms and, as it were, face the music.

Three quarters of the crowd erupted as the Gryfinndor team emerged onto the pitch. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could just make out the indistinct figures of his sister and Charlie, distinguishable only due to the massive banner they clutched, colourful letters spelling out "Us for Iz!" Glancing across, Harry grinned at the small smile creeping onto the pale girls face. The message was strange, and slightly obscure, but evidently meant something to the small girl.

"Oh look." came a dreamy voice, floating above the crowd on the magical megaphone. "The Gryfinndors. Harry Potter's the captain this year; his sister's awfully nice. And Ginny Weasley, I like her too. She's a beater today. Or a chaser."

Gaping, Harry turned to look up at the commentator's box where, sure enough, Luna Lovegood was smiling down at the pitch. Ginny laughed, and even Ron managed to crack a smile, as Madam Hooch, her lips pursed in disapproval, approached them.

"Captains, shake hands." she ordered, and Harry unwillingly offered his hand to the burly Slytherin 7th Year. A few moments of finger crushing, and then, "Mount your brooms."

The whistle blew, and suddenly, nothing mattered any more. Not the jeers from the Slytherins, not the fact that Peter Pettigrew was trying to kill his sister, not the way the watery sunlight was catching Ginny's hair just _so _as she sped up the field with the ball…shaking himself, Harry made himself turn away from the object of distraction and began scouring the pitch for the snitch.

**HelpToCleanHarry'sBedroom**

Twenty minutes in, and any nerves the Gryfinndor team had suffered had long since vanished. It was as if they could do no wrong – leading 50 – 0, with some truly spectacular saves on Ron's part, and three goals from Ginny. Sammy had managed to knock the ball from the arms of a burly Slytherin chaser no less than four times, each time straight into Izzy's arms.

"Another Slytherin has the ball now…" Luna's voice drifted, sleepily uninterested in all but what she felt like talking about. "And…oh, it's alright. There's an interesting cloud just behind the Slytherin post, if you look…"

Harry cheered, a laugh escaping midway at Luna's un-interest in what could potentially be the best save of the match – Ron had ended upside down on his broom, hands below his head as they swiped at the ball. A thunderous chorus of "Weasley is our King" rose from the stands as he righted himself, and Katie shot off with the quaffle securely under one arm.

It was pleasant, drifting over the game, waiting for the snitch and seeing the team he had worked so hard with beating all the odds stacked against them and actually beating the Slytherins. He passed Jane, Charlie and Hermione in the stands, who all waved enthusiastically at him, and soared past the commentator's podium, where Professor McGonagall looked as though she seriously regretted her choice.

Malfoy appeared in front of him, a worried smirk on his face. Harry couldn't help it – he waved merrily and shouted, "Good game?"

Malfoy glowered.

"You watch it Potter. Wouldn't want another mishap happening to your sister, would you?"

Harry started, shocked by the comment. But before he could react, Malfoy had sped away, shoulders hunched in displeasure. Harry was frozen, anger seething through his body as he repressed the urge to curse Malfoy from the sky.

"Harry!" Ginny yelled, streaking past with the Quaffle. "The snitch!"

Harry jerked round, and felt his blood run cold as he saw Malfoy, streaking towards a faint glimmer. It hadn't been fear of Harry's anger that had made him fly off after all.

Leaning forward so that he was practically lying flat, Harry urged his broom forward. The Firebolt was easily the superior broom, but Malfoy had a head start. And then, suddenly, two things happened in amazingly quick succession. A bludger sped, seemingly out of nowhere, causing Malfoy to falter slightly as it brushed past his ear. As he ducked, his broom falling a few inches, something small, hard and blond collided with him. Harry barely glanced down, his eyes fixed solely on the golden ball. Arm out, fingers curling, the wings beating pathetically in his closed palm.

There was a small eruption from the scarlet clad stands. 210 – 0, possibly the greatest win against Slytherin Gryfinndor had ever seen. Annie and Sammy were banging their bats together as they sped towards Harry, Katie and Ron streaking over, and finally Ginny and a slightly dazed Izzy, a spectacular bruise already forming on her forehead where she had hit Malfoy's broom. A mass of laughing, cheering under seventeen's slowly descended, hitting the floor and disappearing under a wave of enthusiastic supporters.

"Harry! Ron! Gin! Izzy!"

Battling their way through, Jane and Charlie using the advantage of smallness to duck between people, Hermione simply using her amazingly sharp elbows, the three fell upon the captain and his teammates.

"That was _fantastic_!" cried Jane, who, having never seen a quidditch match before in her life, was now jumping up and down with excitement. Charlie grabbed her with one hand, and Izzy with the other, leading the three in a giddy dance. Hermione, a beam across her face, threw herself upon Ron.

"Brilliant!" she cried, hugging him. "I knew you could do it!"

Perhaps caught up in the excitement of the moment, or perhaps it was pre-planned – Harry couldn't tell – she reached up and pecked him on the cheek, before spinning away to hug Ginny.

Laughing at the slightly dazed look on his friends face, Harry grabbed his shoulder, and they joined the cheering crowd as they made their triumphant way towards the castle.

**HelpToCleanHarry'sBedroom**

Considering it was the first party to be held in the Gryfinndor common room without the Weasley twins, it wasn't all that bad. Lee Jordan, it seemed, had left instructions with his sister, for she disappeared for maybe half an hour, to return with piles of food. Dean had produced yet another banner, and the fact that they had well and truly thrashed the Slytherins was all that was needed to produce the needed atmosphere. The sight of Draco Malfoy pleading with Madam Hooch that there should be a re-match – that Izzy had flown into him on purpose – was, of course, an added bonus. Particularly when Madam Hooch had shouted at him that he was being ridicules, and a sore loser, and that she couldn't punish the other team because he'd flown into the path of their chaser.

Of course, none of the Gryfinndor saw it as that – Izzy and Sammy were elevated to heroes of the match, whose moves had prevented a horrendous defeat. The fact that Izzy had actually not scored a goal in the entire game didn't matter after that – any whispers of the sort had been silenced the moment she barrelled into her cousin.

Butterbeer in one hand, Harry made his way over to where his friends stood, trying desperately to avoid the numerous girls who had suddenly taken it upon themselves to tell Harry just how much they'd love to go to Hogsmeade with him.

Ron was waving his arms wildly, demonstrating once more one of his saves, just in case someone had missed it. Hermione was perched on the arm of a sofa next to him, her eyes shining with pride as several second years came over to thump him on the back in congratulations. Izzy was surrounded by a throng, looking slightly terrified at the number of people who suddenly knew she existed, but her eyes shining with a delight that far outweighed the terror.

Jane and Charlie were taking it in turns to "commentate" in the style of Luna…Annie was laughing as they did so, already composing the letter to her brother about his replacement…Katie was blushing she talked to a seventh year boy Harry didn't recognise…Sammy was being passed around the room, butterbeers and cakes being thrust into his hands as various people ruffled his hair or pulled him into spontaneous hugs…and Ginny was…Ginny was standing next to him, a smile on her face.

"It's a good party." she said, glancing over at Harry, who was trying desperately to ignore the swooping sensation in his stomach.

"Yeah." he agreed, watching the various antics going on in an attempt to distract himself.

"Nice to see everyone letting their hair down a little." she continued, but Harry merely nodded.

"Good game, too." she tried next, determined to push the boy besides her into some sort of conversation.

But her words had reminded Harry of what Malfoy had said just before the match ended, and the party suddenly didn't seem quite to enjoyable any more.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing important."

Ginny glared at him for a moment, before disappearing back into the crowd.

Harry sighed, and the swooping sensation deflated like a balloon.

**HelpToCleanHarry'sBedroom**

The euphoria of Gryfinndor lasted until breakfast on Monday morning. With the Daily Prophet came news of another attack, this time on a mainly muggle town in North England. Seven dead, twelve injured. It was the fourth attack to reach the paper in two weeks, and so it was with more resignation than shock that the article was read. The Death Eaters were leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that this time they were ready for the return of their Lord.

But life still wound its way onwards, with homework and class work and lessons and quidditch. And with the end of November bringing the second Hogsmeade trip of the year, Ron had something rather important to do.

**HelpToCleanHarry'sBedroom**

They were in Defence Against the Dark Arts, working in groups to research the Inferi. Hermione had instantly darted to the library on hearing this, returning a few minutes later with a pile of ancient texts in her arms, and now the three poured over them, making notes and conversation.

It was in fact Hermione who bought up Hogsmeade, mulling aloud that she needed yet another new quill. Harry turned to exchange an exasperated look with Ron, only to see his friends face pale as he swallowed nervously.

"Uh…Hermione…" he began, in a tone of voice Harry had never heard him use before – a terrified croak.

She looked up, eyebrows raised.

"I was wondering…well…if…you know…erm…"

Harry suddenly realised exactly where this was going, and hurriedly turned to the nearest textbook, burying his head in it and fervently wishing he were anywhere but here.

"Er…that is…d'youwannagoHogsmeadewith me?"

Hermione looked bemused, her eyebrow rising still further.

"Ron, I always go to Hogsmeade with you, remember?" she said, in the tone of one explaining something to a small child.

"Yeah. I know. But do you want to, you know…go _with_ _me_ with me?"

Harry allowed himself a glance at his friend's faces. Ron looked as though he was being put through medieval torture, while Hermione had gone an odd shade of pink.

"Oh. Yes. Ok."

Ron grinned, still looking slightly pained. "Oh. Good."

In an effort to bring the two out of the trance they seemed to have fallen into, Harry slammed the book he was reading shut, and reached for a moment. Both jumped, and turned back to their work, the small smiles and slight pink tinges to their cheeks the only proof of what had happened.

He couldn't say he was surprised, really. It had been a matter of when more than if for some time now, something only confirmed by Ginny's rant of a few weeks previous, not brought up by it.

But still…now it had happened, it was hard not to worry. Suppose it didn't work? Suppose they fell out, as they had done so many times in the past, and ruined not only a relationship, but also a friendship? Or suppose it did work out, but so well that a world outside the pair of them ceased to exist, and it became almost impossible to even stay in the same room as them?

Bleakly, Harry was beginning to wonder if there was any outcome of this arrangement that wouldn't result in him losing at least one of his best friends, when Professor Bassey's voice broke through his thoughts. They bell had gone, and they were heading towards the door when she called, "Harry? A word, if you please."

Shrugging at the curious looks on both Ron and Hermione's faces, Harry turned back into the classroom.

"You look miserable." were the first words out of his teacher's mouth.

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?"

Harry shrugged – he liked the teacher, even more so since the attack on Jane, when she had not only visited, but also revealed her old friendship to his parents. It was almost like have Remus Lupin teaching them all over again.

"Ron just asked Hermione out."

Jane Bassey frowned.

"Is there something wrong with that? Were you hoping to ask Hermione out yourself? Or Ron, I suppose, for that matter?"

"What? No! Definitely not. No way."

"So what's the problem?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. It's just...weird. I mean, suppose they start going out properly, and I'm just sort of tagging along?"

The teacher smiled. "You know, I remember having exactly this conversation with Sirius when your mum and dad first started going out."

Harry blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'd always been closer to those for than Lily had – sharing detentions brings people together in a way very little else can – and Sirius and I got on best of all. Remus used to say we were like brother and sister. But that didn't mean we were willing to exchange our best friends for each other, and when Lily said yes for the first time we spent an entire evening plotting what to do if it all went wrong. Turned out, of course, that we needn't have bothered."

"So it was alright?"

"Oh, the first few weeks were a bit dodgy. But then we got used to it, and they got used to it, and it was almost back to normal. Aside from the kissing, of course."

"Thanks." groaned Harry, pulling a face at the picture Professor Bassey had just put into his head.

"Anytime. That, however, was not my reason for keeping you. I have a letter from your parents for you."

Harry frowned. "What didn't it come at breakfast?"

"They felt it better you had the chance to read it away from the crowd."

Harrys frown deepened as he took the letter.

"Is everyone ok?" he hazarded, a cold feeling settling in his stomach.

"Everyone's fine."

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but she silenced him with a look.

"Go and read it, Harry. I'm sorry."

HelpToCleanHarry'sBedroom 

With trembling fingers, Harry slid open the envelope. There were two folded pieces of paper inside – one addressed to him, one to Jane. He had bypassed the Great Hall, where everyone had gathered for dinner, and was instead in his dormitory, lying on his bed.

Unfolding the paper, he began to read.

Dear Harry 

_You've almost certainly been reading the prophet these last few weeks, and so you will, of course, have noticed the high number of attack that have happened. Your father and I have talked, and we think it might be best if you and Jane stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holiday._

_I'm sorry – we were really looking forward to our first Christmas altogether, and from what Jane has said I think you both were too – but surely it is far better to have one year apart, and many more together, than one together that could result in death?_

_Please give the enclosed to Jane, and try to make her understand. Despite all that happened with her and Charlie and Izzy, the fact remains that Hogwarts is still far safer than here. You, I think, will understand that, but I know she will not._

_I'm sorry, love._

_Your dad, Gemma and Jack all send their love, as do Remus and Tonks._

_Love_

_Mum_

_xxx

* * *

Poor Harry. It'll be lonely this Christmas…I can't tell you how weird it is to be writing the Christmas scenes in April…hey ho…review! And more entries for the page breaks!_


	33. In Which Times Change

Opps. Done it again. Blame the bank holiday! It made me think Monday was Sunday! So today should be Monday…yeah.

I nearly didn't update at all this week, I must admit…I've not managed to write anything since last week, and what with exams etc…so there may not be an update next week. We shall see. Hopefully, if I get something done.

The people whos reviews encouraged my feelings of guilt over a lack of production this week were **Everstar Down, pstibbons, Kylara Kitsune, Gaze of the Sea, Mei1105, SweetSummerx3, Ethereal Flame, Secret world, helbaffy, grimlock78, Isis the Sphinx, Len87, Nessa19, Lady Potter of Tortall, seikinoko, ballerinadoll9, Darkingfire, tickledorange, flower123, kilcanon, Lady Zabini, Secret world, tiggerbaby2430 **and **disneydork.**

And this week HTCHB challenge award goes to…PHEONIX39 and assorted babysitees.

* * *

"Harry? What's wrong?"

They found him in the common room, slouched in one of the armchairs.

"Where's Jane?" he asked, forgoing answering completely.

Charlie frowned. "She's still downstairs, with Izzy."

"Find her, and give her this." said Harry glumly, handing over the parchment. Charlie frowned, but the tone of Harrys voice told him to obey rather than question. Obediently, he turned back the way he had come.

"Harry?" Hermione repeated. "Tell us what's happened."

She and Ginny settled on the arms either side of him, identical frowns of worry on their faces, and Ron took the armchair opposite.

"My mum and dad don't want us back for Christmas." Harry said with a shrug, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral.

"Oh…oh Harry!"

"Meh. Doesn't matter."

Ginny glared at him. "Of course it does. It was going to be your first real Christmas, with a real family. Did they say why?"

"Too dangerous. Too likely we'd be attacked. Safer here, apparently."

"Well you're not on your own, anyway." pointed out Ron, earning himself a glare from Hermione. "What? He's not. Loads of people are staying this year, 'cos of the attacks. I know mum wants me and you to, Gin."

"Well if you lot are all staying, I'm not missing out." put in Hermione.

"No! You lot can't all stay just because of me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry, we'd all do far more for you than miss going home for Christmas, so shut it. We're staying. We've been the second best thing to a family you've had for the past few years, we'll just have to do for one more."

Harry blushed slightly as the other two nodded at Ginny's comment.

"Thanks." he said and last, and hurried off to find Jane.

**HarryTellsCharlieHermioneBites**

The fact that Ron had pointed out – the number of people staying in Hogwarts over the holiday – was bought to Harry's attention well and truly a couple of weeks later. When Professor McGonagall came around with the list, there were more names on it than Harry could ever remember, with the possible exception of the year of the Yule Ball. But this time those signing up were not eagerly discussing dates and dresses – they were generally glum faced, having been forced into staying by their parents.

It seemed the staff too were aware of the problem – entertaining well over two hundred under eighteens over the festive season was sure to be far more of a challenge than entertaining twenty.

When Dumbledore stood up at breakfast one Tuesday morning, Harry expected a reminder about caution during the coming Hogsmeade trip. However, that wasn't quite what Dumbledore appeared to have in mind.

"Students," he called, waiting for silence. "Thank you. As many of you are no doubt aware, due to unstable circumstances in our world at the moment, many of you are staying in school over the coming holiday. In view of this, the staff and I have decided to hold a small party for you all on Christmas Eve."

Excited mutterings filled the hall, as those who were staying suddenly brightened, and those who weren't began to think again. Those old enough to remember the Yule Ball of two years previous began reminiscing, telling tales to the younger years of that night. Dean glanced over to where Harry was sitting, with Ginny on one side. The pair had broken up two weeks previous, but it seemed that the male half of the couple at least was not totally against the idea of getting back together. Harry felt the unexplainable surge of jealously rise up in his stomach once more, and deliberately turned his back to the boy before he did something stupid.

Dumbledore raised a hand for silence.

"It has also been decided," he continued, "that, while following a similar pattern to that of the Yule Ball generally hosted during Triwizard Tournaments, the party shall be open to all years."

And he sat down, leaving a very excited student body to plan amongst themselves.

**HarryTellsCharlieHermioneBites**

The following Saturday marked an important date in several peoples eyes: Hogsmeade Weekend, the day of the Date. Ron spent a good half hour getting dressed, throwing clothes on and off, much to the amusement of his roommates. They stood like a guard of honour as he left, two either side of the door. Seamus's face was grave, Dean clasped the red head on the shoulder as he walked out, and Neville's normal look of worry had increased tenfold. The moment the door had closed behind Ron, all eyes turned to Harry.

"Well?" asked Seamus eagerly. "Who's going to kill who first?"

Harry merely smiled, and shook his head.

**HarryTellsCharlieHermioneBites**

He didn't go to Hogsmeade, in the end. Ginny tried to persuade him to join her and Luna, but Harry declined. It was only right, he felt, to give them space, this first time, and besides, seeing them "together", as it were, was going to take some getting used to – he had no wish to fall upon them unsuspecting.

So instead he passed the day, surprisingly pleasantly, in the common room, with Jane and Charlie and Izzy, and the rest of the Gryffindor first years, watching as they battled through a charms essay, and occasionally throwing in the odd helpful comment. He felt rather like Hermione by the end of the day.

Ginny returned just before dinner, claiming that Neville had appeared, and so she had decided to leave him and Luna to their own devices.

"I didn't see Ron or Hermione." she added with a grin. "Obviously found somewhere private to amuse themselves."

Harry grimaced slightly at the picture that conjured, and hit the offending Weasley with a handy nearby pillow. The one hit escalated into an all out fight, which ended with Harry finding Ginny's weak spot – her ribs – and tickling them mercilessly, to the cheers of the surrounding first years. In true sod's law, it was just as Ginny fell trembling to the floor, and Harry went after her, still tickling, that the portrait swung open, and Ron and Hermione re-appeared.

Looking oddly guilty, Harry and Ginny instantly righted themselves, faces slightly red and breathing heavily.

Hermione looked at the pair of them, mildly amused.

"Have fun?" she asked, grinning.

Neither answered, however. Their gazes instead fell from the two faces, travelled downwards, and came to rest on the intertwined hands. Ginny let out something half way between a shriek and a cry of delight, and Ron, glancing down to follow their gaze, dropped Hermione's hand quickly, his face going a magnificent shade of red.

Hermione, on the other hand, had a look of mild satisfaction all over her face. She ignored the looks of the common room, which ranged from smiles to amazement, and quite calmly headed up towards the girls dormitory. Ginny hurtled after her.

"So?" asked Harry, once both were gone.

"So what?"

"What happened?"

Ron shrugged. "We walked for a bit. Went into the Three Broomsticks. Walked some more."

"Did you snog her?"

The two sixth years both spun round to see the eager faces of Charlie, Jane and Izzy, looking at Ron with great expectation.

Ron went bright red once more, the very tips of his ears igniting, and the three first years crowed with delight.

"He did!"

Harry couldn't help but grin at the look on Ron's face – deep embarrassment mixed with hidden glee.

"It went alright then?" he asked, trying desperately to ignore the first years, who were now chanting "Ron and Hermione, sitting in a tree…" at the tops of their voices.

Ron smiled, his face returning to its normal colour.

"Yeah. Yeah, it did."

**HarryTellsCharlieHermioneBites**

The fact that Hermione Granger was dating Ron Weasley caused a surprising stir amongst the Gryffindors of Hogwarts. They were a well known pair, mainly through their connections to Harry, but also due to the amazing arguments they staged every few weeks, sparks flying from either end of the common room that always, somehow, ended in peace. And so it was, unsurprisingly, slightly disturbing to come across the two entwined in a corner somewhere, apparently oblivious to all but each other.

"If he wasn't my brother, it'd be sweet." Ginny commented one Friday evening as she and Harry sat in the common room. Hermione and Ron were sitting together, as per usual, her reading, and he dozing on her shoulder after a rather exhausting quidditch practise.

Harry laughed. The new relationship between his two best friends had, over the past couple of weeks, presented both problems and pleasures for him, the most enjoyable of which being that he now spent the vast majority of evenings with Ginny.

"Even if it was still your best friend?" he asked, glancing from Ginny to Hermione and back.

"Meh." Ginny shrugged. "I'd have been trying to set them up for years if that was the case. D'you reckon they'll get married?"

Harry blinked. "Gin, they've only been going out a couple of weeks. Give them a chance."

"Yeah, but can't you see it? Ron forgetting his words…Hermione having a panic attack 'cause it's not going according to plan…mum sobbing into her tea-towel…me with a camera to capture the entire affair for prosperity…"

Harry laughed again, shaking his head. "You're mad."

"Of course. Is it strange?"

Startled by her sudden change of pace, Harry frowned. "Is what strange?"

"See them together like that."

"Oh. Yeah. Well, a bit. But it's not changed that much."

"Still. Things will be different. No matter how hard you all try, it's Hermione 'n Ron and Harry now, instead of Harry and Ron and Hermione. Your time will never come again."

"You're very gloomy tonight." Harry observed after a moments silence.

"Yeah. It's December. Times are changing. Nights are dark and days are short. All that sort of thing."

"OWLs coming up…"

"Oh shut up! You really know how to make a girl feel better!"

"Sorry. You'll be fine."

"Shut up. You reckon they'd notice if I threw this at them?" Ginny asked, producing a crumpled bit of parchment.

"Maybe. Ten points if you can hit his nose."

"Twenty if you can get it stuck in Hermione's hair."

"Fifty if you can levitate it around their heads without them noticing."

And so it continued, for much of the evening, Hermione cottoned on to what they were doing, and shot them the glare to end all glares. It was only later, as the warm glow that Ginny's presence kindled inside him began to fade away, that Harry began to wonder that maybe their conversation had been far more serious than he had first thought.

**HarryTellsCharlieHermioneBites**

It was probably a good thing that the students of Hogwarts had the Christmas party to look forward to – everyday the Prophet arrived baring more news of more attacks, more deaths. It was no longer unusual to see grimfaced Heads of Houses heading for students, to be taken into private offices and informed of the death of a loved one.

The Death Eaters were short one tyrannical leader, but that didn't seem to be stopping them. Someone was organising them, someone every bit as cruel and single minded as Voldemort, and no one had a clue as to who it could be.

Defence Against the Dark Arts had never been taken so seriously. While Hogwarts was still widely considered to be one of the safest places in the wizarding world, no one had forgotten what had happened to Izzy, Charlie and Jane, and so the students had taken to moving around in groups, obeying curfews with unprecedented determination.

But, as the days went by, the sad state the world was in began to become almost the normal, and a morning in which no deaths were reported became unusual – an event to be celebrated. And besides, there were other things on people's minds.

Dress robes to be bought or sent for, hairstyles to be planned, dates to be confirmed. Their world may be falling apart around them, but these were witches and wizards of the 21st century, and perhaps even more importantly, British Witches and Wizards. And nothing, not even the end of life as they knew it, would get in the way of them throwing a rather memorable party.

* * *

And there we have it! I may, or may not, see you all next week! 


	34. In Which we Pretend at Normality

Ok. Yeah. I did it. Sorry. I like to have one chapter written before I post the next, and by last Monday I'd written exactly nothing. But I was then inspired over the weekend, so Christmas is very neary sorted! And it's half term next week, so perhaps I may get a bit of writing done then, too.

In other news…exams are now well underway…5 and a half HOURS today! Gah!

But I also have three chicks, hatched today and yesterday! And hopefully three more to come!

**The people whos reviews were just as welcome as my chicks **were** flower123, Ethereal Flame, Isis the Sphinx, SweetSummerx3, dingohart, HeyLookTheSnitch, moony391, Nessa19, Mei1105, Phantom of a Rose, Lady Zabini, ballerinadoll9, disneydork, Olaf Erikson, PHEONIX39, NamelessHeretic, tickledorange, seikinoko, Leather Splotches, Lady Potter of Tortall, Sunfairy** and **helbaffy.**

Sorry about the lack of review replies – I have literally had about five minutes to myself recently. But they were a particually nice bunch from you all, so thank you! And thanks to all who wished me exam luck; I think I'm going to need it!

And this weeks HTCHB prize goes to: **Sunfairy**, with "**H**omicidal**T**eachers**C**ut**H**atsto**B**its"

* * *

The only real indication of the start of the Christmas Holidays at Hogwarts was the end of lessons. Where normally the halls would have emptied on the first day, this year barely a dent was made in the student population– even a good number of Slytherins seemed to be staying, although whether for the party or their own safety Harry wasn't sure.

The presents were bought, the decorations went up; Hagrid bringing in the usual trees for the Great Hall and Flitwick showering them with enchanted tinsel and singing baubles.

"They sure know how to do Christmas round here." Jane sighed on the first morning of the holidays, as they sat in the Great Hall at breakfast. Owls were swooping in and out with Christmas cards, several of the muggleborns had donned Santa hats, and Ginny had produced a piece of green tinsel from somewhere to tie back her hair.

"This is nothing." said Ron with an air of dismissal. "Just wait 'til Christmas Day itself."

"And the party." added Izzy with a grin. "I've never been to a proper party before."

"At least we don't have to worry about dates this time round." muttered Harry, who had never quite recovered from the Christmas of his fourth year.

Ron grunted in agreement, his mouth full of sausage, and Hermione's face flashed between disgust and annoyance. Ginny rolled her eyes, and poked her brother meaningfully with the end of her spoon.

He glared at her, and she gesticulated some more, much to the amusement of those sitting nearby. A look of dawning comprehension suddenly took up residence on Ron's face, and he turned to his sort-of girlfriend.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Ron?"

"Would you like to go to the party with me?" He spoke casually, a far cry from the nervous wreck he had been the first time round.

Hermione took a bite of toast, and chewed on it thoughtfully for several moments. Ron's face fell as the seconds ticked by, until Hermione suddenly smiled.

"I'd love to."

**HomicidalTeachersCutHatstoBits**

Christmas eve dawned gloomy, with thick, rain-filled clouds clustering around the castle. A lazy day was spent in the Gryffindor common room, playing cards, chess, and generally doing nothing at all.

Hermione and Ginny disappeared mid-afternoon, claiming "preparation" time, and soon the common room was empty of the vast majority of its female population. Eventually, as the time neared six o'clock, even the boys reluctantly threw down their pass-times, and headed for the dormitories.

Neville lost his toad, Ron had a rather dramatic battle with his hair, and Dean tore his robes.

Harry sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**HomicidalTeachersCutHatstoBits**

Hermione and Ginny were already waiting when Ron and Harry made their way back downstairs. Hermione had donned muggle clothes for the night, wearing jeans and a red top, which twinkled as it caught the light, while Ginny was wearing what appeared to be Hermione's dress robes from two years previous, dyed a deep green. Charlie stood with them, apparently waiting for Izzy and Jane, and several other Gryffindors also stood about, waiting for friends or dates before making their way down to the hall.

"Hey," Ron greeted Hermione with a smile, and nervously thrust a rose towards her. Looking surprised, but distinctly pleased, Hermione took both the rose, and the arm her boyfriend was offering, and the two made their way out of the room.

Ginny watched them leave with an amused look on her face.

"Who told him to do that?" she asked, turning to Harry, who tried, and failed, to look indignant on behalf of his friend.

"No way you'd believe me if I told you he thought of it himself?"

Ginny snorted. "He's my brother. I've lived with him for the vast majority of his life. That was not his idea. And I doubt it was yours, either."

"I take offence at that comment!"

"Harry, you're lovely, honest, but both you and Ron have yet to prove the existence of a single romantic bone in your two bodies combined."

"Yeah. Neville told him to do it."

Ginny nodded, as though she had suspected as much, and turned to Charlie. "You been stood up?"

The first year wrinkled his nose up the girls staircase.

"Jane wanted to do something funny with Iz's hair, and it had better be something good, 'cos it's taking them agggges, and I want to get down before the food starts."

Laughing, Harry and Ginny joined the throng moving downstairs, leaving a very disgruntled Charlie behind them.

**HomicidalTeachersCutHatstoBits**

The Great Hall was bursting by the time they arrived. It was a strange sight – close to every student in the school, the usual blacks of school robes abandoned in favour of pretty much anything else. Many of the muggleborn students had, like Hermione, turned to jeans, skirts and fancy tops, contrasting sharply with the traditional dress robes worn by others. Music was playing from somewhere, although there was no band to be seen – presumably some form of amplification spell, and the usual house tables had disappeared, to be replaced with smaller round tables, designed to seat about ten. Ron and Hermione had already snagged one, and waved Ginny and Harry over.

"I don't think I've ever seen this place so stuffed!" Ron exclaimed as the two finally managed to fight their way through the group.

"It's the same as at the Feasts." pointed out Hermione. "Less, really."

They chatted quietly for several minutes, until Dumbledore, who had climbed to his feet and cleared his voice, halted conversation.

"Welcome," he boomed, "to what promises to be an enjoyable night. Let us, for the next few hours at least, perhaps try and forget the troubles we are currently living in, and spend a happier time with those we love. I believe the food awaits!"

Cheers scattered round the hall as those left standing found seats at tables with friends. Jane, Izzy, Charlie, Luna and Neville arrived to join the four already seated, and so began a cheerful and noisy, if slightly crowded, meal.

Conversation passed easily, Jane and Charlie falling into an argument over who would win in a battle between Spiderman and Superman, with Izzy and Ron acting as referees. Luna was trying desperately to persuade Hermione as to the existence of the blue-feathered fire-breathing Peruvian chicken, Neville was trying not to choke on his turkey, and Ginny and Harry swayed between conversations of their own, chipping into the conversations of the others, and simply sitting back and let the general melee entertain them.

Dinner ended, and the music restarted. It was a strange combination; stuff Harry recognised from the Wizarding Wireless at the Weasley's, and some that was distinctly more muggle. Jane, Izzy and Charlie were soon in the middle of the hall, now empty of tables, spinning round madly, paying no particular attention to what type of music was playing. Luna and Neville were taking it in turns to lead each other around in the most ungainly of waltzes - both wincing regularly as the other stepped for the hundredth time on their foot.

Dean was dancing with Lavender Brown, Colin Creevy was being propelled about by a fifth year Hufflepuff twice his size, another fifth year had claimed Ginny several songs ago, and even Hermione had managed to drag a very reluctant Ron up to dance. Sitting there, watching the others, Harry suddenly felt amazingly alone in the world. The music had changed again, to something far more fast paced than it had been previously. People were whirling about the room, the different colours of their clothes blurring into each other in a never-ending circle, their faces turning into identity-less shapes.

The room was hot, noisy, and Harry's vision suddenly clouded. He swayed slightly as he desperately got to his feet, knocking over a chair in the process, and made an unsteady path for the door.

From the dance floor, a worried pair of eyes watched him leave.

**HomicidalTeachersCutHatstoBits**

Harry leant against the cool stone, soaking up the quiet calm of the Entrance Hall. Music could still be heard, spilling in from the Great Hall, but it was far quieter and much more peaceful out here.

"Harry?"

Correction; was much more peaceful. Ginny's worried voice floated across to him as she searched amongst the shadows for her absent friend. Harry debated, for a moment, slipping away, out of the open doors before she saw him, but quickly dispelled the thought. She would most likely see him anyway, and besides, avoiding it now meant she'd only question him closely later, when there would likely be others around to nose in with their concern as well. Not that he didn't love his friends, but sometimes…sometimes less was better.

He stepped out of the shadows, not realising quite how close Ginny was. She jumped as he suddenly appeared from behind the pillar, and laughed nervously.

"Hey,"

"Are you alright?" she asked, concern etched in her features. "I saw you leave. You're all pale."

"I'm fine, Gin."

"No you're not. Harry, you're many things, but fine isn't one of them. Pretend all you like; we can see otherwise."

"It was just a bit hot in then. Too many people - I'm feeling much better now."

"It's more than that, and you know it. Something's wrong, Harry. Why won't you tell me what it is?"

"Because I don't know!"

Ginny frowned, moving closer in the dim light so she could see her friend better. He was leaning against the pillar again, staring straight ahead with a blank expression.

"I should be happy, Ginny! I've got my family, Voldemort's gone, at least for the moment, and aside from the Death Eater attacks, everything seems pretty good. Just about the best it's ever been. Which I guess says something about my life."

Ginny smiled sadly. "Harry, you can't expect to be happy all the time."

He shook his head vehemently. "It's not that. I just…never mind."

"Yes mind. Don't you dare go all teenagey on me, Potter."

"I just can't understand how everyone can be so happy in there!"

A deathly silence fell at Harry's outburst. Even the music seemed quieter.

"I don't understand." ventured Ginny at last, willing him to explain.

"They're all in there, smiling and laughing and dancing, like there's nothing wrong in the world!"

"Maybe because, right now, at this moment in time, there isn't."

"But there is! People have died, Gin! People are still dying! Right now, somewhere out there, there are people plotting and planning on how best to kill someone next!"

"And right now, in here, people are having a chance to relax a little for the first time in ages!"

"But what difference will it make? They're all in there now, having a good time, and tomorrow, or the day after, or next week, there'll be another article in the Prophet, and someone else'll be getting a letter, and leaving school to go bury their parents."

"Harry, you've got to stop fretting about the future!"

"Why? It's never been that friendly to me."

Ginny sighed, moving to lean against the pillar next to him.

"People die. We fight wars, we get hit by buses, whatever. We get hurt, knocked about, battered and bruised. We lose those we love, and those we love might lose us. We get worried and stressed and panicked. All because of one idiot and his crap ideas. We're only human, Harry. We need this time to let ourselves go, and just be people. No worries, no fears. Just you and a cute guy and a good song, and a bunch of friends to remember the night with afterwards. Pretending at normality."

Harry said nothing for a few moments, thinking deeply about what she had just said.

"You scared, Ginny?" he asked at last, his voice soft in the dark.

"Yeah."

"Me too."

In the silence that followed, two hands began crossing the gap between their owners. Neither particularly noticed what they were doing, let alone that the other was doing the same, until the two sets of fingers brushed in the darkness.

Harry jumped, and Ginny glanced down quickly. Neither of them moved, however, and a moment later Harry moved his hand slightly so that his fingers were laced through Ginny's. She said nothing, but a soft smile settled across both teens' faces as they stood together in the dark, leaning against the pillar with their fingers entwined. Clinging together against the force of the future.

**HomicidalTeachersCutHatstoBits**

The Hall seemed calmer, somehow, when Ginny eventually lead him back in. The people were still dancing, the music was still playing, but with Ginny's hand firmly entangled in his own it all seemed suddenly a lot clearer. She led him easily over to the dance floor, moving compliant hands into position and joining in once more with the celebrating students. On their way they passed Ron and Hermione, the former of whom gaped and the latter of whom beamed. Charlie wolf-whistled from the midst of a large group of first years, and Jane and Izzy erupted into yet more giggles.

"Relax." Ginny murmured into Harrys ear, which had at some point moved to being conveniently near her mouth. "You're going to break one of my fingers."

"Sorry." Harry amended his iron grip on her hand.

"You see, though? It isn't so bad."

"This time last year your dad was being attacked by a giant snake."

Ginny felt herself grow cold at the mention of the snake attack, but kept her face and voice determinedly mild.

"Don't think about it." she whispered. "Not last Christmas, not next Christmas. Forget how things are, forget how they'll be, forget how they could have been. Right now it's just you and me and a random piece of muggle music that I've never heard before in my life, and that's all that matters."

He said nothing for a few minutes, and so Ginny continued to move them about the room, allowing herself a quick glance at his face every now and again. It was completely empty, an expression she'd never seen on him before. No fear, no anger, no laughter, no smiles…just a strange air of peace. She wondered, for a moment, what he would have been like if life had been kinder. But it was a path not worth walking, and besides…spare someone the pain and the misery, and do the happy moments, the peaceful moments, the evenings in the common room and the victories on the quidditch pitch, mean as much? Doesn't make it worth it, sure, but it's a pretty good compensation.

"Moonlight Serenade." he said suddenly.

"What?"

"The song. It's called Moonlight Serenade."

"I like it."

He turned his head slightly so that she could see his eyes and face clearly. A small grin was beginning to poke out of the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah? Me too."

And Harry Potter danced.

* * *

I'm very fond of this chapter. The scene with Harry and Ginny out in the Entrance Hall was a large factor in me wanting to re-write this story. I was hit by the idea in the latest film version of Pride and Prejudice – there's a moment when Kiera Knightly leaves the hall where a dance is going on, to lean against the cool wall outside and look confused by life. And I thought…ha! So there we go. This chapter is possibly the longest planned of the lot, with the exception of the final chapter, and the plot climax.

Review!


	35. In Which it is Christmas

I live again! Sorry…exams are in full flow now. But my last one is next week, so after that it should hopefully be back to normal.

The people who's reviews have cheered me through math's and biology were **Isis the Sphinx, ballerinadoll9, Mei1105, Phantom of a Rose, flower123, Abbey Eileen, SweetSummerx3 **(Length I'm not sure – heading in the way of fifty chapters. There's no Horcrux stuff, but the prophecy comes into play after Christmas. As for sequels…I have ideas, but no time. I wanted to include more Remus/Tonks in this, but ran out of space, so maybe…No. No. I have a Doctor Who fic to complete first. Then…well…we'll have to see.),** NamelessHeretic, Nessa19, moony391, Mistress-Genari, dweem-angel, Kylara Kitsune, seikinoko, Lady Potter of Tortall, Serious Fan, Aealket, tickledorange, Screams of a Shadow, Ethereal Flame, Persephone of Peridot, Gryphie** **and -xAndromedaBlackx-.**

This chapter was planned as being two separate ones, but somehow I just couldn't write about Christmas in May, so it got condensed into one. Hope you enjoy!

And the winner of this weeks HTCHB contest is… **Gryphie** with** H**airy** T**igers** C**all** H**arry **"B**ean"

I like it in particular due to the fact that there's a boy in my sixth form whom we affectingly know as "Bean". And tomorrow, we're failing chemistry together. So there we go.

* * *

He kissed her for the first time later on that night, or what was actually very early the next morning. They'd wandered back up to the Common Room when the party ended at midnight, and as people slowly drifted off to bed they suddenly found themselves the only ones left down there. She'd somehow ended up leaning against him on the same sofa they had only days previously laughed at their best friends on, his arm comfortably round her shoulder as they talked about anything that came into their heads.

Eventually, however, the growing droopiness of their eyes could be no longer ignored. They reluctantly clambered to their feet, each feeling suddenly strangely embarrassed.

"Well, night." said Ginny, with a small wave.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Sleep well."

She smiled up at him, and Harry realised for the first time just how close she actually was. This was a different kind of close to earlier, when they had been dancing. Then they had been in a room full of people, full of the noise and bustle of a hundred other lives. Here it was just him and her in a world on their own. So he did what seemed most sensible at the time; bent his head and kissed her.

**Hairy Tigers Call Harry "Bean"**

Harry woke to the ruckus of his dormitory at about 9am on Christmas morning. Seamus and Dean were already tearing their way through their piles of presents, pausing only to compare various objects as they emerged from the paper. Neville appeared to have only opened one – what look suspiciously like a plant, which Harry instantly decided to discover the name of and research any defence properties it may hold. Ron appeared to have only recently awoken – he still bore the slightly pained look of one who was not entirely sure why they had been roused after so little sleep.

He caught Harrys eye, and grinned.

"Presents?" he asked, with a jerk of the head.

Nodding his agreement, the two joined the fray.

**Hairy Tigers Call Harry "Bean"**

Like any true Christmas at Hogwarts, it had snowed overnight. Harry wasn't entirely sure how so much had fallen in such a short amount of time – after all, there had been none at the end of the party – but there it was. Breakfast was long, people filtering down slowly in small groups and making their lazy way through the cereal and toast. The post bought hundreds of brightly coloured envelopes as families sent Christmas love to the children away from home. Harry and Jane both got their own, two folded pieces of card that appeared to have been made by Gemma and Jack, given the erratic felt pen lines that were possibly meant to resemble Christmas trees and presents.

It was not long, of course, before what seemed like the entire school had taken to the grounds, impromptu snowball fights starting up all over the place, snowmen popping out of the ground as the morning went on.

"We never get snow like this at home!" Jane said enthusiastically, grabbing a handful and aiming at Izzy. "We get like three inches for a day once a year if we're lucky."

"No snow's like Hogwarts snow." agreed Ginny, who had already reduced her brother to a whimpering mess on the floor by spelling several snowballs to follow him around and hit him on the back of the neck.

"It's probably spelled." Harry decided, kicking at a nearby pile with child-like enthusiasm.

"If any of you had read _Hogwarts; A History_ then you would know that right from it's founding, Hogwarts has always received heavy snowfall around Christmas." Sniffed Hermione. "In the past it has got so cold that the entire school had to close, for fear of students becoming ill. And one year the lake froze so solid that the teachers had to use heat spells to rescue the squid."

"Fascinating." said Ron with a roll of the eyes, still keeping a nervous distance from his sister.

The group were walking through the grounds, having already exhausted the snowball fights and snowmen building that many others were still involved in. Ron and Hermione's hands were firmly entwined, as they had been since Hermione had rescued her boyfriend from Ginny's rogue snowballs. Harry had grabbed Ginny's wrist several minutes previous to stop her slipping, and was yet to relinquish his grip. Throw in Izzy, Charlie and Jane rushing around them, still tossing the snow about, and it was like the scene from a Christmas card; snow covered landscape, with the fairytale castle in the background, and laughing youngsters trekking through.

**Hairy Tigers Call Harry "Bean"**

Much later that night, the same group of friends sat around the Common Room fire. Wrapping paper was scattered about the room, the presents they had concealed long since put to use in whatever way the new owner thought acceptable. Small groups of friends and family sat together, and there was an air of calm and peace after what had been a very active day. Someone had a wizard radio tuned in, and Christmas carols were crooning around the sleep room.

Harry looked around him. Ginny was curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder. Ron and Hermione were in their usual chair, as squashed as always, and the three first years were lying on the floor, lazily playing cards, with Jane and Izzys cats curled up next to their respective owners.

So he hadn't got to spend Christmas with his family. So he'd missed the chance to see Jack and Gemma dive under the tree first thing, as Jane had assured him they would have done. He'd missed his dad cursing the turkey and his mum wrestling with the Christmas tree. He'd missed the whole chance of having a family Christmas, a concept he had yet to experience in his life. But had he really missed out that much?

Jane glanced up at him, her attention for a moment focused entirely on him. She cocked her head on one side, a curious look on her face and a smile tugging at her mouth. Harry smiled back, and settled down more comfortably against Ginny.

In the end, he had everything right there.

**Hairy Tigers Call Harry "Bean"**

Boxing day, once upon a time, had been a ceremonious occasion for the Marauders and their extended party. They would gather, first at various parents houses, later in homes of their own, and relax after the harrowing experiences of a Day with the Family.

Lily would bring left over turkey, since her mother was always convinced her family ate far more than they did. Remus would bring pudding – not Christmas pudding, but the king of all cakes, one of many baked by his mother on Christmas Eve. Peter bought the bread, Jane bought salad, James bought every sandwich sauce known to man and wizard, Liz bought drinks, and Sirius just came, originally empty handed, and later weighed down with mayonnaise from James's mother.

The sandwiches had been an art form in themselves. Sirius would construct great tower blocks, using several slices of bread and half the turkey. Liz's were intricate, the bread exactly the right thickness, the toppings in delicate patterns. Jane's were wild, turkey flopping out wither side and mayonnaise dripping all over the place. Peter and Remus would work in tandem, each doing one slice of bread and then mashing them together. James was surprisingly neat and methodical, Lily the exact opposite.

Then there would be a few moments quiet contemplation, each observing and admiring the others handiwork. And then madness took over as they all dived in, helping themselves to each others creations in a mad boat of eating that would tide them over until New Years.

It was an event that had not taken place for many, many years. Remus had never felt it right to share this tradition - indeed, up until recently, he had had none to share it with – and when Jane had cut herself of from her past, she had done so with a ruthless swipe, leaving such small things as Christmas rituals in her past.

But this year…this year it was going to be different.

Remus stayed with the Potters for Christmas – Lily, horrified by the idea of him spending the day alone, had insisted that he come for at least a week, which had swiftly turned into ten days, and then a fortnight. Jane decided to stay in Hogwarts, at least for Christmas Day itself – there was the party to chaperone, and besides, if the children weren't allowed home, it seemed unfair that the teachers were.

And on Boxing Day, Christmas came once more to the Marauders.

**Hairy Tigers Call Harry "Bean"**

"I," James proclaimed, settling back into his chair, "am stuffed."

"Well if you will try and eat an entire half turkey by yourself, I'm not surprised." Said Remus dryly.

"It wasn't an entire half!"

Lily and Jane both turned to him, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"James, I made most of those sandwiches. There was half a turkey in them." Jane pointed out.

Cam was smiling, if slightly bemusedly, while Mark had raised both eyebrows in amusement. They were sitting on the sofa in the Potters living room, watching one of the oddest occurrences they had ever seen.

Four adults and two children were sitting on the floor, gathered around several large plates. Paddy, whose interest in the turkey had caused cries of disgust from Gemma, had been banished to the kitchen, leaving the humans to some form of peace. The low coffee table was covered in plates, empty now, but which had been laden with slices of bread, the remnants of a turkey, and all the other necessities for a good turkey sandwich. Gemma and Jack had both produced rather dubious creations, with Gemma hunting out the jam in favour of anything else, while the four adults had quickly settled back into their old ways.

"Mu-um…" whined Jack, pouting, "Gemma's nicked my sandwich."

Lily rolled her eyes, and began the game of peacekeeper.

"You know," mused Jane aloud, "I never thought I'd see the day when we all got so…domesticated."

Lily glanced up, eyes laughing underneath the lock of hair that had swung forward over her face.

"What do you mean?"

"Well. I've got a job. James is being responsible. You're mothering small children."

"So? They're _my_ small children." protested Lily, whose dislike of anything under the age of ten had been the subject of ridicule many a time during her youth.

"Even so. Twenty years ago, who'd have placed bets on this?"

"I think go back one year, and I still wouldn't have placed bets on seeing this again." Pointed out Remus with a dry smile. "Six months, even."

"What did you do last Christmas Remus?" asked Lily curiously.

"Visited Arthur Weasley in St Mungos, and stayed at Grimmauld Place for a while. Sirius was very down, with Harry and the others going back to Hogwarts again."

While Sirius's name was no longer the conversation-ender it had been, it still caused a few moments of quiet thought.

"D'you remember that year when James and Sirius decided to enchant all the mistletoe?" asked Jane after a moment.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Of course. I got cornered by a suit of armour that was determined to have its wicked way with me."

"Well how were we to know the spell would affect inanimate objects too?!" protested James. "It was meant to make the people more amorous, not the statues."

"Dad?" Jack, with the ears and curiosity of a child, turned to his father in confusion. "What's a wicked way?"

Jane and Remus laughed at the look on James's face. His eyes bulged slightly, and several non-committal noises left his mouth.

"That's something your dad will explain when you're older sweetie." interjected Lily quickly.

James slumped slightly, looking none too pleased at the prospect, which caused Remus to chuckle further.

"He's your child, James, through and through."

"Well, that's comforting." muttered Lily, hugging her son.

"If I remember rightly, you gave as good as you got." pointed out Remus. "Was it not you, Jane, who concocted idea of a singing cuddly toy to follow James and Sirius around for the entire week after New Years?"

Jane attempted, and failed, to look innocent.

"It wasn't just me." she protested weakly. "We borrowed the toy of a first year, and it was Liz and Lily who found the spell and the songs."

"D'you know what I think?" said Lily suddenly.

The others turned to her, eyebrows raised.

"Highly unlikely." muttered James, earning himself a glare from his wife.

"I think we're spending far to much time saying 'do you remember' and 'remember when…'. S'about time we started collecting new memories instead of remembering the old ones. I don 't mean we _shouldn't _remember Liz and Sirius and everything, I just mean we shouldn't do nothing but remember them, and…"

She trailed off at the sound of laughter.

"Sorry." apologised Jane. "You were rambling, love. Breathing is a good thing, you know."

Lily blushed slightly.

"I mean it, though." she continued. "I know we've got loads to catch up on, but we can't keep on doing this! We need to- "

"We get it, Lily." interjected Remus, taking pity on the woman. "We get it."

Somehow, his voice told her he got more than her words.

Up on the sofa, Cam and Mark, who had been following the entire exchange, glanced at each other. She smiled at him, and he squeezed her hand affectionately. For now, things were good.

* * *

Annnnd…we're done. A bit of light hearted fluff, overall. But things will liven up a bit now Christmas is over, I promise.

Probably no update next week, but you never know! But, as I said earlier, exams are nearly over, so I'll be back to writing again well and proper.

Review!


	36. In Which Harry Pays a Visit

Annnd…she's back! Exam free, and darn proud of it! On to the driving theory…oh the joys!

This chapter was meant to be longer. In my head it was longer. I now have many more frees each week than I did before exams…well, five more, anyway, thanks to the dropping of geography…so I've taken to scribbling away in various notebooks. Unfortunately, what was three pages on paper turned into a page and a half on computer. Which is strange, since normally my typed stuff is the longer. But anyway.

The people whose reviews got me through the statistics and chemistry exams, and so have my eternal love, were SweetSummerx3 (Sorry – next week should be on time!), NamelessHeretic, Isis the Sphinx, tickledorange, moony391, seikinoko, Nessa19, disneydork, noname, Gryphie, flower123 and Mei1105.

And the winner of this weeks HTCHB contest was **Desperate Darkness** with "**H**old **T**he **C**asket, **H**enry's **B**ack". Slightly bizarre, but I have this voice in my head saying it in this extremely surprised voice. Hmm. Moving swiftly on….

Anyone seen the new Pirates of the Caribbean? Your views, on a stamped addressed envelope! Or, indeed, a review!

* * *

The New Year bought cold weather, icy winds and flu to the population of Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey was doling out potions left right and centre, but not fast enough to stem to spread. Both Charlie and Izzy managed to come down with it on the same day, leaving a very grumpy Jane to collect three sets of homework and deal with a double potions alone while they waited for the medicine to work. 

The bad weather also resulted in a school wide ban of quidditch practise, after a Hufflepuff chaser ended up in the hospital wing having crashed into the spectator stands when his broom froze up in midair. So the Gryfinndor team were suddenly presented with far too many evenings to be spent in the common room, with no more excuses to avoid homework, much to their collected disapproval.

They had been back at school a week, but teachers across the curriculum appeared to have decided exams were a lot closer this side of Christmas. It seemed to be taking Ginny three times longer to finish work than it had done before the break, and Harry was certain that wasn't simply because he was waiting for her company when she finally finished. Ron, scowl on his face, was scratching at a Charms essay, while Hermione watched him, with only the trace of a smug smile. Harrys own essay lay in front of him, nearly finished, but somehow he couldn't quite bring himself to pen in the final few sentences. Promising himself he'd do it tomorrow, Harry pushed it to one side and slumped back in the arm chair. It took him several moments to notice the timid looking second near who was peering at him nervously from several feet away.

He looked at her, eyebrow raised in question. She blushed deeply, and offered him a scroll.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this." she mumbled, thrusting it into his hands and retreating quickly. Harry opened it curiously, and read the short message.

"_Mr Potter –_

_I would be very much pleased if you would spare me a few minutes of your time this evening. Around 8:30 would be excellent._

_Did you enjoy the dessert tonight?_

_Dumbledore."_

"Harry?"

Harry looked up to see Hermione's questioning gaze directed at him. He shrugged, and passed over the note.

"What d'you reckon he wants?" she asked, reading it with a frown.

"And why's he so interested in the pudding?" asked Ginny, who had peered over Hermione's shoulder to see what was going on.

"That must be the password. Sponge pudding." said Ron with a shrug.

"You'd better be quick, it's nearly twenty five past."

Still puzzled, Harry scrambled to his feet and headed out the portrait hole.

**HoldTheCasket,Henry'sBack**

"Ahh, Harry. Excellent." Dumbledore greeted the teenager's knock with a smile, putting aside the parchment he was holding.

"Chocolate frog?" the headmaster offered as Harry took his seat.

"They were a present." Dumbledore explained. "And I feel I must share them with whoever enters this office at the moment, lest I eat them all myself."

Harry took one, feeling slightly bemused.

"Your sister and her friends are recovered from last October?"

"Yeah. Well, they don't go off on their own as much, but…yeah, they're fine." Somehow, he had the feeling that Dumbledore hadn't called him here to talk about Jane, but if that was the way he wanted to play it…

"Good. It's been an eventful few months for you, Harry."

Now thoroughly confused, Harry nodded. "Yeah. Well, they always are."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Quite. I was wondering, however, if you had talked to Mr Weasley and Miss Granger about the conversation we had in this room last July."

"The prophesy?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Why?"

Harry frowned. Dumbledore had retorted so quickly he was momentarily taken aback. It was almost like a game of ping-pong – he said something, and the headmaster was already waiting, bat in hand, to shoot back a reply.

"I…I don't know. They'd worry. A lot."

"You do not give them their due, Harry."

"No." Harry admitted after a moments thought. "Just…they worry enough as it is. If I told them I was going to end up either murderer or murdered…"

"It would certainly upset them."

"Yeah."

"I had this same dilemma myself, you know, many years ago."

Harry looked up, interested. He had never heard Dumbledore take a stroll down memory lane before, at least outside the pensive, and something told him it would be an interesting experience.

"I heard a prophesy, foretelling the rise or demise of the worst wizard seen for many generations. And I knew of only two people for whom the prophecy applied."

Harry frowned. "Professor, you told me all this, remember? It was either me or Neville. And Voldemort chose me."

"But before I knew that, though, I had another problem. Two families, both with children not even six months old. And I had to decide whether to tell them of the life one of those children could be faced with. They were more than names – those people were friends, who I had known for nearing ten years. I had seen them grow up, discover themselves and each other, and I had the news that could destroy their lives. But I told them. Partly because I knew they deserved to know, and partly because I knew they would never forgive me if I hadn't told them."

"They won't like it."

"They won't like you not telling them even more. I know I told you to keep the information I gave you between ourselves, but I think we could probably extend the trust to Mr Weasley and Miss Granger."

"And…" Harry paused for a moment, thinking. "Anyone…I mean, can I tell anyone else?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I think we could extend the courtesy to Miss Weasley as well, if you wished."

Harry nodded. If he was going to do it…well, all or nothing.

"I must confess, this conversation is rather belated in it's occurrence. I had hoped to discuss this with you last year, but with one thing and another…well, we both had other things on our minds."

There was a short silence, during which Harrys mind worked frantically. He had questions, and plenty of them – things he should have asked the previous July, but had been too upset and angry to think about. Thing was, could he get Dumbledore to answer them?

"Sir," he began, still trying to work out exactly what he was going to say. "Could I ask you something?"

"I do believe you just did. But I don't see how a few more something's can hurt. Ask, and I shall answer where I can."

"What's going on with Voldemort now? What's he up to? Where is he? What's being done to find him? And what'll happen when we do?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Alas, Harry, if I could answer half those questions then I would be a much happier man. Where, we can only begin to imagine, although I suspect it will be a lot closer to home than the forests of Albania. We will, of course, be seeking to regain his own body and full power once more, but whether he will attempt the same route again, or find another way, I don't know."

"But sir…I don't get it. How is it that he doesn't die? I mean, if it were anyone else, surely they'd be dead several times over by now."

"Any other human, perhaps. But any human part of Tom Riddle died long ago."

"What do you mean?"

"Humanity is not a guarantee that comes with life. The soul, the part of us that develops and maintains our human traits, is effectively pure, no matter how evil the actions of its owner are. As a person such as Tom commits crimes of increasing brutality and cruelty, the darkness within him grows, and the soul is repelled."

"Like with oil and water?" mused Harry aloud. "The two can't mix."

"Exactly. Tom's soul disappeared long ago, and with it, so did the last of his humanity."

"He ain't got enough human left in him to die." said Harry, remembering Hagrids words from so long ago.

"Precisely." said Dumbledore, sounding mildly surprised.

"Hagrid told me that, when he first got me from the Dursley's."

"And, as is so often the case, he was right."

"But I don't get it. If Voldemort's got no soul, and you need a soul to be able to die, then how am I meant to kill him?"

"We must give him a bit of a soul."

"And how do we do that?"

Dumbledore sighed, looking suddenly like a defeated old man, not the impregnable wizard Harry had known him as.

"I only wish I knew."

**HoldTheCasket,Henry'sBack**

Harry made his slow way back to the common room. So much to say and explain…the English language had never seemed so restrictive. How would they take it? What would they do? Only one way to find out.

He climbed through the portrait hole, paused, and smiled. In the corner, by the window, sat Hermione and Ron, arguing over what was probably Ron's homework. It wasn't the explosive, angry rows of their earlier years – this was friendly banter, an argument provoked merely for the fun of arguing. Two equals, smiling even as they rowed. Ginny sat next to them, glancing up at them every so often with a fond smile on her face, then returning to scratch at homework of her own with a frown of concentration.

All three looked up as Harry approached, smiling in welcome at their absent friend.

"Well?" asked Hermione. "What did he want?"

Should he tell them now? No-one else was about, after all, and…well. No time like the present.

He slid into the seat next to Ginny, and looked around at the three. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"There's something I need to tell you."

* * *

Done and done. Again. 

Amazing fact: it is now one month and three days until the release of HP7 in all English speaking countries. Anyone else out there excited…:-)

My friends, I have a request to make. I'm planning on entering a short story competition for welsh writers. I've written a story, but have hit a small problem…the word limit is 3000, whereas I have hit 4000. So would any of you be willing to read afore mentioned story, and do any or all of the following for me:  
- Tell me what to cut out  
- Check story is ok, and makes sense!  
- Give me a title!  
If you want a peek, just give me your email in a review. (Remember to write it with spaces and stars etc, or will delete it!)

Many thanks!

And review!


	37. In Which Hermione Panics

So. Ermmm, yeah. Remember when I said something about a definite update last week? Well…I lied. Sorry. Here it is, however…unbeta'd, since my sister is otherwise occupied…and I wanted to get this up tonight, as I'm out all over the place tomorrow with my school summer concert.

My eternal thanks to those who weren't to occupied to review last weeks chapter: **Maggie, noname, Mistress-Genari, TalkingMouse, SweetSummerx3 (**sorrrrrrrrrrrrrry**), NamelessHeretic, Nessa19, Gryphie, Screams of a Shadow, Isis the Sphinx, Len87, applesollie, disneydork, #';#';#';, Gaze of the Sea, flower123 and ballerinadoll9.**

Special thanks to all of you who offered to read my story for me – any feedback will be much appreciated!

And folk, I turned the page on my calendar today…I'm now on the same page as the big red circled date that is 21st July!!!

The winner of this week's HTCHB… **H**appy**T**eachers**C**an**H**ave**B**rain's, from **flower123**

* * *

They took it surprisingly well. Hermione and Ginny both gasped and paled, and Ron's face went through a series of unusual contortions, but they remained otherwise silent, allowing him to tell his story as fully as he could.

"Oh Harry," sighed Hermione as he finished. "Oh Harry…what's Dumbledore planning? What's he going to do?"

Harry shrugged. "What can he do?"

"I don't know! Teach you. Train you. Curses, hexes, more advanced defense magic."

"Oh come on Hermione, Harry's the Boy Who Lived, not Superman." snorted Ron, surprising them all with his correct reference to the muggle super hero. "Maybe you could handle a whole load of extra work, but no way anyone else could."

"Way to go on the confidence boosting, Ron." muttered Ginny with a roll of her eyes.

Ron spluttered. "What?" he protested. "It's true. Bassey's a good Defense teacher – easily as good as Lupin."

"But surely…Dumbledore's faced Voldemort before. Harry, you can't treat this like some…quidditch match or something. This is serious! You need to be prepared!"

"Quidditch is serious!"

"Shut up Ron."

"Hermione," Harry's voice broke into the argument. So maybe she wasn't taking it that well after all.

"What?" she snapped.

"Hermione."

He said her name again, with more force, and she visibly deflated.

"Sorry."

"Ron's right." he continued, once Hermione had settled down. "I'd probably do more harm than good with anything more advanced than what Bassey does with us."

"Oh come on! You learnt how to conjure a patronus in you third year!"

"Because I needed to! I told you all last year; facing Voldemort is more than learning a bunch of spells and throwing them at him. I can know all the spells under the sun and still lose."

Hermione sighed. "I know Harry. I just…worry, you know?"

"We all do." chimed in Ginny, sounding very grave.

"You promise you won't do anything stupid?" Hermione asked.

Harry grinned wryly. "Now when do I do anything stupid?"

"Promise, Harry." Ginny added, her voice pleading. "I…we all care about you. Don't do anything without telling us. We're in this with you."

"You make it sound like I'm going to take off tomorrow on a Dark Wizard hunt."

Hermione and Ginny raised their eyebrows, identical looks of scepticism on their faces.

"I promise." he sighed, seeing they were not going to let the matter drop.

Hermione nodded, and Ginny squeezed his hand.

"Thank you."

Hermione stood and stretched. "I'm going to bed. We'll finish that tomorrow night, Ron." She stooped to peck his cheek, and waved at the other two. "See you in the morning."

The remaining three sat in silence for a while, Ginny curling up and resting her head on Harry's shoulder and slowly dozing off.

"You alright mate?"

Ron's quiet whisper made Harry look up from the dying embers of the fire. His friends face was half in shadow, but an uncharacteristic look of concern was easily distinguishable.

"Yeah," said Harry, also whispering, as to not disturb the sleeping girl.

"Hermione meant what she said earlier. If you're ever in trouble or danger, don't just go on running straight into it on your own."

Harry looked across at his friend. Hermione and Ginny would be vocal in their worry and fuss, and so far more obvious, but he realised, perhaps for the first time, that Ron too held great concern. He just wasn't as obvious about it.

Feeling a sudden rush of affection for his best friend – his first real friend – Harry had an idea.

"Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't we go down to the quidditch pitch tomorrow. You can use the Firebolt, and we could practise a few more of Weasley's super saves."

Ron grinned. "Yeah. Sounds like fun."

Harry grinned back, and the two friends settled back into their silent musings.

Her head still on Harry's shoulder, Ginny shifted slightly in her sleep, and smiled.

**HappyTeachersCanHaveBrain's**

The weeks after Christmas passed surprisingly quickly – it felt like all one had to do was blink, and another day would have gone by. Monday. Blink. Friday. Blink. Weekend. Blink. January. Blink. February. Blink.

But while a strange semblance of peace was settling over Hogwarts, at least for the time being, all was not quite so well in the Potter household. As young Gemma Potter was about to discover.

**HappyTeachersCanHaveBrain's**

"Mum! Mum!"

The little girl tore into her mother's studio, all thoughts of disturbing her mother completely irrelevant.

Lily Potter looked up irritably at her youngest daughter.

"What is it, Gemma?"

"There's something in the cupboard! It's shaking and banging and making strange noises!"

Lily frowned and put down her brush. "Which cupboard, Gem? Show me."

Surprisingly obedient, Gemma led her mother upstairs and into her bedroom. Bits of paper, glue and felt pens were scattered across the floor, a messy, half-made bed up against one wall under the window, and an ominously shaking wardrobe at the far end of the room.

Lily approached it with a frown.

"Gemma, are you sure Jack's not in there playing a trick?" she asked hopefully, already knowing the answer. Since the Dementor attack, her youngest child's love of hiding in cupboards and wardrobes had diminished somewhat.

"Yeah. I yelled him, just in case, but he was in his room. He's gone to find Dad and Remus."

Right on cue, the two ex-Marauders appeared behind Lily and Gemma in the doorway. James had Jack in his arms – the little boys head was buried in his fathers shoulder, a pair of dark brown eyes stealing a look up every now and again before hurriedly retreating.

"I think it's a boggart." said Lily thoughtfully, approaching the wardrobe. "But what on earth it's doing in Gemma's bedroom…"

"Mum, no!" Gemma cried from where she was hiding behind her father's legs. "Don't open the door! You'll let it out!"

Lily sighed, and returned to the doorway. "Go find my wand, Gem, and we'll make it leave."

The little girl hurtled off down the stairs, as though the hounds of hell were after her.

"Here love, me and Remus'll sort it." said James quietly, passing over their youngest son and nodding at his friend. "Lord knows what it'll turn into, best if we can get it out the way before she comes back."

Lily nodded, and stepped aside to let the two pass.

James took up position next to the wardrobe door, while Remus pushed up his sleeves and readied his wand. A nod from one to the other, and James threw open the door.

The savaged, dead body of Nyphandora Tonks toppled to the floor.

Lily gasped and jumped backwards, keeping her sons face buried in her shoulder. James's eyes widened and went instantly to his friends face. Remus had gone white as a sheet, and he could see the beginnings of panic setting in around his eyes. Acting more on impulse than forethought, he leapt forward and shoved his friend out of the way. The corpse rolled over, it's eyes opening to look at the newcomer. Startled, and ever so slightly disgusted, James whipped out his wand.

"Riddikus!" he bellowed, before the creature could transform again. It disappeared with a snap and a whisp of smoke.

A heavy silence filled the room.

"Jack," whispered Lily, placing her son on the floor, "go find your sister. Tell her we're fine, and it's gone."

The little boy nodded, and disappeared.

"Remus?" Lily said quietly, approaching the stunned man where he stood, still gazing fixatedly at the spot where, only moments before, his friend had lain dead.

"Come on." She took him by the arm and began to guide him from the room. "I'll put the kettle on."

**HappyTeachersCanHaveBrain's**

They sat in the warmth of the sitting room some ten minutes later, mugs of tea cradled in the hands of each. Remus was still visibly shaken, although some colour had returned to his cheeks.

"I didn't think it would do that." he said quietly after a few minutes silence. "It's normally a moon."

"Looks like your priorities have changed mate." said James with a wry smile.

"I've never seen a boggart do that before." sighed Lily, stirring her tea. "I mean, when we did them in Hogwarts, they were all spiders and clowns and stuff. Dead bodies…that's…disgusting."

Sighing again at her admittedly rather lame ending to the sentence, she turned to James.

"You ever heard of one doing that before?"

He shook his head, but Remus began to nod.

"Yeah. Couple of years ago, during the summer I lived at Grimmauld place. There was a boggart in one of the upstairs rooms. Molly tried to take care of it by herself – I found her in tears as the boggart went through the forms of every member of her family lying dead on the floor."

"Question is," said James, his face carefully blank, "not the matter of a boggart taking a human form, but the fact that this boggart appears to have decided that what my dear friend here fears most in the world is the death of a certain young auror. Care to enlighten us, Moony?"

To his credit, the werewolf didn't so much as bat an eyelid, let alone blush.

"It is not what your brain is thinking Prongs, I assure you."

Lily smiled to herself as the two lapsed into their old nicknames. It was a habit they fell into at times like this, when one could almost pretend that they were seventeen years old again, safe and innocent in the common room.

"Really? 'Cos last I checked, when your greatest fear is the death of a person, your feelings for that person tend to…strong."

"Nyphandora has been a good friend to be the past couple of years."

"So has Molly Weasley, but I didn't see her lying dead on Gemma's bedroom."

Remus chuckled humourlessly. "You are not going to shut up about this, are you."

"Nope."

He sighed. "Perhaps I have grown slightly more…attached…to her than is strictly right."

James rolled his eyes and looked to the ceiling. "Sirius, mate, I'm going to need your help on this one. Fancy sending down a lightning bolt to knock some sense into idiot over there?"

Remus laughed, but remained silent.

"Fine. Moony, old buddy old pal, you are not too many years short forty. A gorgeous girl is lusting after you, and it would appear that her sentiments are not unrequited. What's the problem?"

"Who says she returns my feelings?"

"Ha! So you admit it!"

"I never denied it."

"You twisted it round into old timey words that make it sound like you mean something else. And she says she returns them. The way she was begging you to go out for a drink with her is kind of a hint."

"That was months ago!"

"So? She jumps out of her skin every time you come into the room. She blushes if you look at her for too long. And she watches you when she thinks no one's watching."

"Do I want to ask how you know all that?"

"I've spent the vast majority of the past six months with the pair of you. Call it continual observation."

"It doesn't change the fact that I'm old enough to be her father, hardly earning enough to pay rent, and not to mention a werewolf."

"You sound like a cracked record mate. Alter the words slightly, and it's us trying to persuade you to ask Liz out all over again."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out!"

"So what? You reckon you go out with someone and they end up dead?"

"Liz died because I wasn't there to protect her."

"Come on Remus! I thought we'd been through this. If you'd been there, chances are you'd have died too. It wasn't your fault."

"Tonks deserves someone better than me. Someone who's whole…not carrying all the baggage I bring."

James looked as though he'd just sat on a pincushion. His eyes bulged, his face turned a violent shade of red, and he looked as though he was barely restraining himself from swearing.

"For cripes sake Remus, don't you get it? I know a lot of people in this world, and I can't think of anyone better than you. You are the kindest, best natured, most well meaning, goodest person I know. She can't get anyone better than you! Heck, if it came to it, I'd have let you marry Lily, just 'cause I know how good you'd be to her."

Lily laughed. "Nice to know you love me James."

"You've not realised that yet? I'm just trying to say, if it came to it, I'd have fought anyone for you except Remus."

"That is quite possibly the nicest thing you've ever said to me." said a now rather red faced Remus.

"And probably the truest. I mean it, Remus. Talk to her, at least. All this dancing round each other is bad for both of you, and for us too. The sexual tension is enough to make me turn grey."

Remus sighed. "Do I really have any say in the matter?"

"Nope." James grinned cheerfully, his battle won. "Go get her, tiger."

* * *

Yes. I'm not obsessed with Spiderman.

I'm going to be straight out and admit it now…there will be no update next Monday. I'm in Nottingham on a VetSim course, with no internet access. I'll try to get something up later on that week, but I'm not promising anything.

So, until we meet again, farewell, and review!


	38. In Which Remus Makes His Move

Hi. Yet again, I appear to be apologising for a late update. Which is exactly why I really didn't want to stop during exams…I break a pattern, takes me ages to get back into it. But, considering the perfectly normal, uneventful weekend I have ahead of me, I thought, why not stick in an update? Plus, we passed the one year anniversary of the re-launch of HTCHB, and I forgot. Opps.

However, the past couple of weeks have not been wasted. I have been thinking long and hard, once more, over the future of this story. And before some of you gasp in horror, don't worry, this time round it will be finished. But it will then go, for the second time, under some major revision/editing. There are several reasons for this, some outlined in the following…  
a) It is much easier to go back and add in the foreshadowing, better character development etc which this story currently lacks, once the whole thing is complete.  
b) There's stuff in here I think is unnecessary, and was churned out by me in my desperation to meet deadlines, and other stuff I'd like to include.  
c) My sister is not the best beta in the world, and so I need to go back with a fine toothcomb to see what she has missed.  
d) Having just re-read book six, and in the process of getting into a very Harry Potter-ish mood, I now see much more clearly what this story needs and lacks.  
e) While I'm pleased with this story, I'm not as proud of it as I'd hoped to be, and so I intend to amend that.

So there you have it. The end shall not be the end. The plot will not change dramatically, just how it is presented. I've already had some very useful comments in regard to this, but anymore would be much appreciated. Those whose reviews were much appreciated this week were **ballerinadoll9, dappledsunlight, markg, Mei1105, TheUnknownMarauder, seikinoko, Isis the Sphinx, Gryphie, tickledorange, pheonix39, flower123, DancingCavalier1, SweetSummerx3, LostHeart4, An Unpoetic Recluse, disneydork** and **elphaba731.**

And the winner of this weeks HTCHB contest… **H**ungry**T**rees**C**atch**H**umongous**B**ees, by

* * *

Tonks watched her two best friends with a bewildered expression on her face. She had known for many years now that their mental stability was something to be questioned, and their behavior was becoming ever more erratic with every passing day. Only three weeks previously, Nat had declared her utter dedication to the cause of promoting the welfare of shellfish, but even that paled on comparison to the sight in front of her.

There were little booklets spread out across Alex's desk, some pages marked with bits of parchment, others discarded in disgust. Scraps of parchment bedecked in scribbled words were piled up on one corner, and a large square of cardboard covered in colorful square blocks was leaning against the filing cabinet.

"Blue bell or duck egg?" demanded Nat suddenly, dramatically waving two of the booklets aloft. Alex studied them both intently for several minutes, before declaring, brow furrowed,

"Duck egg. It will bring out the evergreen hue."

"You think? Personally, I prefer the bluebell. What do you think Tonks?"

Tonks opened her mouth, paused for a second, and shut it again. She rued the day her two best friends had declared their desire to re-decorate their kitchen. In her head, she began a very long winded, long-practiced rant, telling them both exactly what to do with their paint cards, their samples, their curtain swaths, and every other home-decorating item that had been shoved in front of her over the past couple of months.

Instead, she took a deep breath and counted to ten.

"Personally," she said, her tone tight and controlled, "I think they're both the same. But, if it makes you happy, you could buy both, mix them together, and use the result."

Nat thought very deeply for a moment.

"I don't know," she sad eventually. "That might not work."

Resisting the urge to throw something very large and heavy at her friends head, Tonks' head slumped forward onto her chest. She turned to head for the door, determined to make an escape while she still could, and shrieked.

Instantly, two wands were out and pointed at the figure in the doorway. Alex and Nat may have been slightly distracted, obsessed with DIY and completely mad, but they were also a pair of aurors, whose un-shrieking best friend had just shrieked loud enough to bring in a banshee.

Remus Lupin raised his hands.

"And people try to moan about the training of young aurors." he said with a smile, as the three occupants of the office relaxed. "That has to be one of the fastest reactions I've seen in many years."

"Remus." Tonks said, sounding surprised, but not displeased. "What are you doing here?"

Remus hesitated. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure himself. One of the things that had made James such a good quidditch captain was his ability to bring out the adrenaline in people, causing them to do things they would definitely not have done without his influence. A few choice words, and he could have had the entire of Gryfinndor camping out in the Forbidden Forest. Remus could only hope he never decided to run for Minister of Magic.

"I was wondering if I could have a word." he said, voice trailing off as Nat suddenly leapt up.

"Which one?" she demanded, waving two bits of card in front of his face.

Remus didn't hesitate.

"That one. Tonks?"

She glanced about. "Sure. I'm due a break. Nat, tell Dawkins if he comes looking for me."

Nat nodded absently, already re-submerged in her paint samples.

"Don't be too long. You need to help us decide on cupboard door handles."

Tonks waited until the door was shut behind them before turning round and banging her head on the wall several times.

"I love my friends dearly." she said to the amused looking Remus. "But sometimes I could quite happily remove their various appendages and feed them to starved hippogriffs."

**HungryTreesCatchHumongousBees**

She led him out of the auror headquarters, into the lift, along some more corridors and into Arthur Weasley's office.

"He's out today, got a couple of new trainees out, showing them basic magic misuse. He doesn't mind if I use his office for anything I don't want over heard, provided I don't touch the plugs. What's happened and to whom?"

Remus frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"Aren't you here to give me the time of an Order meeting? I presumed…I thought something had happened."

"No! No, not at all. We won't have a meeting unless anything does, either."

"I know," said Tonks, taking on a patronising tone to hide her own confusion. "Hence the worried questioning on everyone's well being. So why are you here?"

Remus had his back turned, and was rather intently studying a poster describing the structure of a basic plug. Unused to such avoidance tactics from a man who was normally upfront and honest, Tonks moved over and parked herself between the wall and Remus himself. She didn't realise quite how close they were until she looked up to repeat her sentence, and had to narrowly avoid biting his chin.

Remus glanced down, and seemed ever so slightly shocked to see her there, a slightly worried frown on her face.

"Remus?" she asked, sounding slightly confused, "are you alright?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. I just…I mean to say…"

And then he was kissing her.

**HungryTreesCatchHumongousBees**

For a moment she was frozen, shock and disbelief disabling any reaction mechanisms. But then she relaxed slightly, deepening the kiss and trying desperately to hold on the single rational thought in her head – "don't rip off clothes…don't rip off clothes…"

Just as suddenly as he had began, he stopped, pulling away and taking a couple of steps back.

"Sorry," Remus said with disgusting calmness. "I didn't mean to…sorry."

Tonks, who was feeling distinctly less calm and collected than he appeared, merely gaped breathlessly.

"I think," she said, when her mind had finally come around to the ability to produce full sentences, "I think that wasn't a word."

"No." agreed Remus. "Perhaps not."

An awkward silence followed, in which neither particularly wanted to look at the other, and both tried desperately to think of something else to say.

"I mean it." said Tonks suddenly, giving up and diving straight in. "Every time I say it, I mean it."

"Mean what?"

"I really, truly don't care. About the age thing, the money thing or the werewolf thing."

"I do care, though."

"But you shouldn't!"

"But I do!"

"What are you doing here, Remus? If there's no meeting, why'd you need to see me so urgently? I'm guessing it wasn't to snog me senseless."

Remus faltered.

"I don't know." he admitted after a moment. "I was at Lily and James's. There was a boggart in Gamma's cupboard, and when we went up there to deal with it, it…well, it turned into you."

Tonks blinked. "Into me?" she said, incredulously.

Remus nodded an affirmative. "A dead you. Mauled and savaged."

Tonks puffed out her cheeks. "Phew. Cheery image. Thanks."

"That doesn't bother you?" asked Remus incredulously.

She looked startled.

"Kind of. Not really though, it was just a boggart."

"But it could be more than that!"

"Remus, I hardly think boggarts are into predicting the future, unless perhaps they've spent far too long in Trelawny's tower."

He glared at her. "You're purposely misunderstanding me."

"Quite possibly."

"Tonks, just over sixteen years ago I returned home after a full moon to discover my partner lying dead in a pool of her own blood. She had been attacked by a werewolf."

Tonks blinked, horror taking over her face.

"Oh Remus, surely you don't believe that you…"

"Of course not." He snapped, although the impatience in his voice told her it had taken some persuading to remove that idea from his mind. "Dumbledore believed it to be Greyback, or one of his pack – it was known that he was planning something special for that month, although none of us knew what."

**HungryTreesCatchHumongousBees**

_The setting sun cast long shadows over the garden. Autumn was quickly turning to winter, the bare trees and nippy air betraying the seasons turn. Remus stood outside the place that had been his home for over a year now, his eyes firmly fixed on the pale woman before him._

"Are you sure?" he said, the tone of his voice suggesting that this was not the first time he had asked the question.

"_Remus, go." said the woman, her voice attempting to sound light. "I'll be fine. I'm not as helpless as you seem to think."_

"_I don't think you're helpless!" protested Remus vehemently. "I just…you need to be careful."_

_She nodded, the pain in her eyes saying what words could not. The past two weeks had been the hardest either person had ever lived through; they both bore the marks of the aftermath of Halloween. Perhaps not in scars or physical injuries, but in the way they had left the house only to attend two separate funerals for three separate friends, and had not been out of each other's sight since. _

"_And you too." She said. "It's been a long time since you've done this without…well, without company."_

"_I did it before, I can do it again." he promised, kissing her on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."_

_She nodded, cupping one hand round his cheek._

"_Be safe." she murmured, and he disapparated._

_He knew something was wrong from the moment he apparated onto the front path the following morning. Even before his eyes fell on the Dark Mark, suspended in the sky, he just…_knew. _There was a tang in the air, something not quite right about the still building in front of him…and in his heart, he knew._

_He moved stiffly through the house, all advice about never entering a building over which the Dark Mark hung long gone from his mind._

_She was lying in the living room. The furniture was smashed and scattered around her – his Liz had not got down without a fight. Her blond hair was matted, stained red with her own blood, and her clothes were ripped and torn. A massive gash across her throat revealed the killing blow._

_Remus didn't speak, didn't cry, simply moved carefully across to her and sat down, taking her cold, pale hand in his own and staring at her still face. That was how the aurors found him, maybe an hour later, as stiff as a corpse himself. Dumbledore arrived soon afterwards, and so the last of the Marauders returned once more to Hogwarts._

**HungryTreesCatchHumongousBees**

"You think she'd like you going on like this, though?" said Tonks softly. "Not letting you get to close to anyone, because you reckon they'll die if you do?"

"Don't talk like you knew her." snapped Remus, surprising both of them with his anger.

"Tell me about her then."

"What?" Remus started – he had not expected that.

"Tell me about her. She was the most important part of your life, and to earn so much regard from you she must have been a pretty amazing person. So tell me what she was like."

Remus frowned. "Ok." He began, slowly. "She was the middle of three, one of two girls. Blonde hair, always smiling. Shyer than Lily and Jane, quieter…"

They sat, in the messy, cramped office of Arthur Weasley, Remus retelling tales of days long gone, a fond caress in his voice. Old jokes, games, tears and laughs, and the person they had centred around. At one point his voice broke – it had been many years since he had talked of Liz in such depth, and it was even more draining than he had thought – but Tonks reached out and squeezed his hand gently, and after a moment, he continued. Two lonely souls, sitting alone in the darkening room, hands entwined and a soft voice winding its way around them.

Loneliness is only a passing thing.

* * *

I'm actually rather pleased with this chapter –first in a while, too.

There will not be an update on Monday…I've a feeling that tomorrow is going to leave me rather drained, and not up to writing much at all…but there will definitely be one the following week.

Until then, my friends. The end of an era is dawning. No more shall we sit and scheme and ponder and plan how it's all going to end. The books that have shaped my generation are finally drawing to a close…boy am I going to miss the times this waiting period has given me. May you all have a lovely last Harry day.

See you on the other side.


	39. In Which the Potters Return

So who's finished it??!!! I would rant, but I don't wish to spoil…but phew! What a book!

Anyway, yes, as I mentioned in the previous chapter, this version of HTCHB is now one year old. Whoopee. Throws out party hats Those people who get a slice of the birthday cake in return for their kind reviews are **Isis the Sphinx, NamelessHeretic, dappledsunlight, Nessa19, elphaba731, lemonwedges4, Mistress-Genari, helbaffy, flower123, TheRedBandit, polyhymnictal, Deathzealot, Caeryn Lae, tickledorange **and** LostHeart4. **

A note…as many of you may know, fanfiction now sends out alerts to tell me not only when I have a review, but also when I'm added to an alert/favorites list. And while it is nice to get them, please, out of politeness, throw in a quick review as well! Only one, you need never do it again after that, it's just nice to read new readers thoughts…make my inbox full to the brim for my return from holiday!

Ahh. Yes. That.

Holiday. There will be no more updates now until, at the earliest, August 16th, when I am home for one day. More realistically, the next update will not be until the end of August. I'm off all over the place again this summer, with no internet at any of my stops. I shall, however, be taking my laptop with me, in the hope to get lots of writing done, ready to return to weekly updates. Sorry.

The winner of this weeks HTCHB contest is…Isis the Sphinx, with **H**elping**T**onks**C**urdle**H**er**B**eans.

And one we go again…

* * *

March bought peaceful weather that contrasted cruelly with goings on in the wizarding world. There had been a lapse in attacks, in murders and killings, during the months after Christmas – perhaps something to do with a belated festive spirit, although Harry seriously doubted it – but as spring began to finally push its way through winter, so the attacks began to once more appear on the front pages of the Prophet. 

"I just don't get it," sighed Hermione as they sat in the Great Hall one breakfast time. "I mean…why?"

"Why what in particular?" asked Ron, eyebrows raised.

"What do they think they're going to gain from all these random killings? There's no pattern, no motive, it's not like anything they're doing is going to bring Voldemort back, so why risk themselves so openly?"

"'Cos they're stupid." shrugged Ron, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, yes, I know, but there's got to be more to it than that."

"It's panic, ain't it." said Harry with a shrug. "Get us all worked up and worried – who next, when, where. Make sure we don't forget."

The post owls arrived as he spoke, swooping in over people's heads to search for their respective destinations. The now usual hush fell over the hall as people eyed any bird heading their way, dreading the heavy, official Ministry seal that, these days, only ever meant one thing. Harry searched with them, not for the dreaded Ministry letters, but instead for any sign of Soot, the Potters owl. For the first time all year, over the past few days he had found himself dreading news from home.

Ron and Hermione could not help but notice the sigh of relief from their friend as the last of the owls swooped away.

"Surely they won't make you stay behind again?" said Ron incredulously.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I mean, it's not like things are any safer than they were at Christmas."

"Oh come on…you guys have to be the most protected family in Britain."

"Yeah, but they're also one of the most wanted." pointed out Hermione. "Although I must agree with Ron on this one. You missed Christmas…if you miss this one too, then you're not going to see them until summer."

"Tonks said something about seeing us at Easter, so unless she's coming here then she must think we're all going home. And she knows we'd stay here if Harry was." chimed in Ginny thoughtfully.

Ron blinked.

"Since when have you been getting letters off Tonks?" he asked, sounding deeply surprised.

"Ages," shrugged Ginny nonchalantly. "All year, at least. And a few last year too. She says hello."

Ron continued to gape.

"For Merlin's sake Ron! I do have other friends apart from you three! Speaking of which, there they go, and we have Charms."

With a toss of red hair, she turned and stalked towards a group of fellow fifth years.

"You're an incredibly strange older brother, Ron." sighed Hermione with a shake of her head.

"What? I just thought she was writing to mum. Did you know all those letters were to Tonks, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. He had been vaguely aware of his girlfriend's pen pal, but only in the same detached way he knew Hermione still wrote to Viktor Krum.

"I think it's good that she write to her." said Hermione authoritively. "Better than her trying to talk to me about everything."

Both Harry and Ron spluttered at Hermione's words.

"She annoys you?" asked Ron, sounding as though he was strung somewhere between big-brother-protectiveness and past experience.

Hermione, however, merely snorted. "Of course not." she sighed, sounding exasperated. "I mean, however much I love Ginny, she and I are very different. She needs someone a bit more lively to plot and scheme with. And there's the fact that I'm going out with her brother, and she's going out with my best friend, which makes some topics rather awkward to discuss."

Both boys turned interesting shades of red at that thought, and the subject hastily turned to the looming prospect of apparation lessons.

**HelpingTonksCurdleHerBeans**

So nervous was Harry of tempting fate, he did not pack his trunk until the night before the Easter holidays began, and even then it took the combined forces of Ginny and Hermione to force him upstairs. It was almost a relief to have an excuse to leave – the common room was jam-packed full of excited students, ready and waiting to see home once more. The panic that had led to so many families insisting their children remain at Hogwarts over Christmas had abated somewhat – perhaps people had presumed a large attack at Christmas, allegedly time of goodwill, or perhaps, somewhat harrowingly, the idea of Death Eaters loose once more was simply too normal to cause widespread fear.

It was strange to be packing for such a short time span, used as Harry was to only being away from Hogwarts for one long period a year, when absolutely everything went with him. So it took some time for him to finally settle on what to leave over the two weeks, and what would be needed.

By the time he returned downstairs to the common room, it was much quieter and emptier. Ron was playing a half hearted game of chess with Charlie – any more hearted, and the poor boy would have been flattened in three moves – while Hermione went over her checklist of books she would need for the holidays. Jane was sitting with a rather solemn looking Izzy, and something gave Harry the feeling that there was one person not looking forward to going home. If he hadn't known about the letter she had received a few days previous, demanding her return, then he would have suggested to Jane that she invite her friend to stay for the holidays. He knew all to well what it felt like to return to a place you were pretty sure you weren't wanted.

Acting on impulse, he headed over to the two first years.

"Looking forward to going home?" he asked with an ironic grin.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Can't wait. They're just going to be so thrilled with me."

"Think of quidditch."

"What?"

Both girls looked up at Harry as though he had just sprouted green fur.

"I mean it. Whenever anyone starts getting cross, or complaining, or talking or whatever, just tune it out and think of quidditch. Or, you know, what you like thinking about."

"You should write a book." said Izzy with a small smile. "101 ways to avoid and annoy unwanted relations."

"Don't let them get to you, Izzy." Harry said, keeping his face serious. "I mean it."

"And I'll write loads." added Jane. "Everyday. And the moment it looks like they might let you out, give me a yell, and you can come stay. For as long as you want."

And with those words, although it would probably be some years before anyone made the connection, the Potter household gained one final member.

**HelpingTonksCurdleHerBeans**

They were waiting on the platform as the train drew in. Jane had had her face pressed to the glass for the past ten minutes, homesick for her parents now they were so close to seeing them again. Harry, on the other hand, was suddenly feeling strangely nervous. It was the previous summer all over again – what to do when he saw them, what to say, how to act…suddenly, he found himself longing for the safe familiarity of Hogwarts. But then Harry heard Jane's shriek of delight, and saw them, standing with the Weasley's, and he couldn't help but smile.

The train had barely stopped before Jane was leaping off, throwing herself into the arms of her parents. James picked her up and swung her round, his delight at seeing his daughter doubled by the fact that she was conscious and out of bed. Harry, however, hung back, still feeling uncertain. Ron and Ginny had both got off behind him, and were being greeted by Mrs Weasley, while Hermione had already disappeared in search of her own parents, and Harry felt strangely lost without one or other of them poking him in the right direction.

And then James looked over his daughters shoulder and saw his son.

"Harry!" he beamed, releasing Jane into Lily's hands, and moving forwards. There was a moment of awkwardness, during which neither of them were quite sure what to do, and then James reached out and grasped his son's arm in an affectionate sort of squeeze.

"Hey." grinned Harry, any and all doubts disappearing instantly. His mother appeared from nowhere, enveloping her eldest as she had Jane a few moments before.

"Got your trunks? Jane, got Scat? Hedwig, Harry?" Lily began to list off her children's belongings, looking around.

"See ya Harry!"

Harry looked up in time to see the Weasley's waving at him as they left the platform. He grinned and waved back; his smile widening as he noticed Mr and Mrs Granger shooting Ron some very suspicious looks. It seemed Hermione had told them at least some of the events of the previous term, and they were rather wary of it all.

"What was us with them?" James asked cheerfully, steering the trolley towards the exit.

"Only daughter's new boyfriend." said Harry with a laugh. "Jane, Izzy's waving."

Jane spun round and ran over to her friend, dragging her mother with her. "Come on, Mum, I promised Iz she could come and stay, and if you ask then they can't say no."

They appeared to be Izzy's parents, a haughty looking man with the same blonde hair as his brother and a small shrew of a woman. The conversation was short and without smiles – from where they stood, the two male Potters could see the nervous looks on Izzy and Jane's faces, not to mention the way Lily was holding herself stiffer and stiffer as the man spoke. When they turned to leave, the was a murderous look on her face that told James his wife was going to be ranting long and hard later on that evening. Jane, however, seemed oblivious to it – the first hour or so of the car journey home was filled with her chatter on absolutely everything she had been up to over the past term. Harry said little, happy to sit and listen to her rattle on, remembering his first car journey home after Hogwarts. It had been silent, Uncle Vernon glaring at him every few minutes, Dudley cowering in the front seat. Lily glanced up and saw her son through the mirror, watching his sister with an odd smile on his face. She caught his eye and raised one eyebrow inquisitively. Harry shook himself slightly and grinned back. The past was done, tomorrow was forever an uncertainty, but, for today, he was happy. 

**HelpingTonksCurdleHerBeans**

The first few days of the Easter holidays passed without incident. While the Potter children were home, it was obvious that the goings on in the wider wizarding world were still at the forefront of most people's minds. Gemma and Jack were not allowed into the garden without one or other of their parents - something that appeared to have been provoking long arguments for some time now, used as the children were to the free run of both their own home and that of Cam and Mark. Close inspection of his parents revealed to both be paler and thinner than they should have been, and while Harry was fairly unfamiliar with their usual appearance, he guessed that a look of permanent worry wasn't it.

Remus and Tonks came over for dinner on the third evening, and it was there that Harry saw the most pronounced difference. Remus looked as pale and ill as ever, which, with the upcoming full moon, was only to be expected. Tonks, however, despite the usual pink hair and new small smile that appeared on her face every time Remus caught her eye, looked drawn and haggard. The aurors, Harry realised, would of course be baring the full brunt of the Death Eaters. With Voldemort apparently inactive, whilst at Hogwarts he had found himself feeling, for the first time, strangely detached from the goings on in the outside world, receiving, along with everyone else, the news only from newspapers and letters from home, which he realised, were, of course, fairly sugar coated.

Without his scar twingeing every few weeks, or some dastardly plot or the other going on within the school itself, he had almost forgotten that when it came down to it, this was his war to fight. Seeing the way his mother followed her children's every movement with worried eyes, the way his dad walked Paddy with one hand firmly round his wand, the way Tonks nearly fell asleep in her sponge pudding, the way Cam and Mark, who wouldn't even have known about any of it if not for simply being two of the kindest people on the planet, kept a shot-gun hidden by the front door…Harry made the battle his own once more.

**HelpingTonksCurdleHerBeans**

Izzy arrived a week after the holidays began. It had been decided it would be safest on all counts for James to collect her – Lily was liable to blow something up if the Malfoys agitated her too much, which would not be pleasant. There was some debate of the wisdom of James Potter travelling alone to the house of the brother of a known Death Eater, and so, if only to sedate Lily, Tonks went along too, her glee at being leant the invisibility cloak causing her hair to flash through all the colours of the rainbow. They returned barely thirty minutes after they had first disapparated, and the two girls fell upon each other as though they had been separated for years. Lily fussed around the child in a manner that reminded Harry of Molly Weasley whenever he had gone to stay .

Remus and Tonks came round once more, and after some debate it was decided that Izzy would be Tonks' second cousin in law, which made the young girl smile for the rest of the day.

"There seems to be a recessive gene in that family." said Remus to Harry and James one evening, as they sat watching the two girls play in the fading sunlight. "Comes out once a generation. First Andromeda, then Sirius, now Izzy."

"Izzy's not a blood relative though," pointed out James. "Not to the Blacks, at any rate."

Remus chuckled darkly. "Most pureblood families are all related to each other somehow. You and Sirius were probably distant cousins, and I wouldn't be surprised if the Weasley's tied in there somewhere too. Most of Slytherin is related to one another."

At that moment, a voice sounded from inside the house.

"Harry? Harry!"

Instantly, three wands were out and an auror, a werewolf and an extremely worried father were surrounding the fireplace.

"Hermione?" gaped Remus when he saw whose head was floating there. "What are you…?"

"Am I alright to come through?" interrupted the witch impatiently. James, slightly flummoxed, nodded and stepped back. A moment later, Hermione Granger was climbing out of the fireplace.

"Oh Harry!" she cried, seeing him just beyond the adults. She launched herself at him, causing James to cry out in alarm. Harry, however, was by now used to this sort of greeting from his friend – he caught her easily, although there was confusion all over his face as to why she felt the need to cling to him so tightly. It was only when she finally let go that he realised her face was red and tearstained.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" he asked urgently. Very few things could make Hermione Granger cry, he knew, and one of them was conspicuously absent. "Ron? Is he ok? What's happened?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know." she cried, thrusting a piece of parchment into Harrys hand. "I got this a few minutes ago."

Harry took it gingerly, and, dread gnawing at his stomach, unfolded it.

_Hermione –_

_There's been an attack on the shop. On our way to St Mungo's now. Could you send this on to Harry? Will let you know if everything's ok._

* * *

Oh I am cruel. See ya in September, folks! And please, drop me a line, and review!!! 


	40. In Which Musings Begin

Hola! Home! At last! It has been a most…hectic…holiday. Week in Devon was great, as always. Week on North Wales Youth Orchestra…not so great, but no worse than I was expecting. Week on the barge was interesting…and week in Guernsey was quite simply fantastic. So there we go.

Annnnd…AS results are in. I got A's in geography and general studies, and B's in maths, chemistry and biology. Which I'm rather happy about.

And I'm even happier with the following people, whose reviews were awaiting me on my return: **NamelessHeretic, Isis the Sphinx, lemonwedges4, flower123, Phantom of a Rose, elphaba731, violingirl7, ballerinadoll9, LostHeart4, TheRedBandit, Mei1105, Aconite Snape, Nessa19, dingohart, padfoot'smoon, Broken Fire Hydrant, Lucyanne, DancingCavalier, PSTurner, tickledorange, Rose's Thorne, GivenPeace13, Anaxandra, Ashlee C, PHEONIX39** and **mushcorn.**

Hehe, if reviews could kill…I'm guessing a lot of you weren't happy with the way I ended things last chapter…?! But never fear…all is revealed this chapter. Or some of it, anyway.

* * *

Harry gaped at the writing, re-reading it several times.

"Was that it?" he asked, cursing his friend for his briefness as Hermione nodded. "Who would have been there? It's gone closing time, they won't have been that packed…"

"No. But the twins would have been there, and whichever assistants were working today. Ron goes over most days. And Ginny's been doing a bit of work for them over the holidays, too."

That was enough for Harry. He turned to his father, who had watched the whole exchange, and said "Me and Hermione are going to St Mungos. Could you…?"

He indicated to the fireplace.

There was a moment in which James Potter looked from his son to the fireplace and back again, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he nodded. Taking out his wand, he muttered a quick spell under his breath, and flames appeared. Harry offered a small pot from the mantelpiece to Hermione, who took it, stepped into the flames and disappeared. A moment later, Harry had followed.

"Is it just me," mused James aloud after a moments quiet, "or did I just let my sixteen year old son, who happens to be top of the Death Eater's most wanted list, disappear with a person who never actually proved to be who they said they were?"

Remus patted his arm. "Don't worry about that, Prongs. You couldn't have stopped him. If any of the Weasley's are hurt, especially Ginny or Ron…well, he needs to know. And besides, he's still not used to checking his movements with anyone, doubt he ever will be now. Mind if I borrow the fire to contact Dumbledore? He ought to know."

**HTCHB**

The witch at the help-desk was young, with fly away brown hair that kept untwisting itself from the bun it had been unceremoniously forced into, and far too much to do at any one moment.

"I'm sorry, what did you say again?" she asked for the third time in five minutes. "No, I'm sorry Mrs Redgrove, he's not available just yet…Mr Brown, Healer Dawkins will see you now…Weasley, did you say?"

Hermione nodded sharply, looking as though she were barely restraining herself from hitting something. Probably the welcome witch.

"I'm sorry, it's family only. No, Miss French, not that way…look, you two, I really can't help you. You're going to have to - "

"Harry? Hermione?"

They spun round. Arthur Weasley stood there, looking tired and drawn.

"Mr Weasley!"

"What on earth are you doing here?"

"Ron sent me an owl. What happened? Who's hurt?"

Mr Weasley sighed. "You'd better come with me." he said, leading them towards the lifts.

"Well?" demanded Hermione the moment they were inside.

"It seems Death Eaters turned up about half an hour or so after they closed. Fred, George, Ron and Ginny were all there, along with a couple of the shop assistants. From the sound of it, there was quite a fight. Fred and George set off a whole load of their products, and a few more shop owners came to help. When the first of the aurors appeared, the Death Eaters went."

The lift doors opened, and Arthur began to lead them along a series of corridors.

"Who was hurt? And how badly?" Hermione asked again. Mr Weasley shook his head, and stopped outside a door.

"In here." he said quietly, opening it and indicating they should go through. Harry followed Hermione through, heart in his mouth. The sight that confronted him, as his eyes grew accustomed to the stark whiteness of it all, was one so harrowing it would haunt him until his dying day.

Ron was standing just opposite the door, looking a little worse for wear, but otherwise unharmed. The same could almost be said for Ginny, who was sitting in a chair at the end of the bed. Her face bore a few scratches, and there was the beginning of a bruise on her left cheek, but nothing life threatening.

No, what made Harry stop and stare were the two figures at the top of the bed. George Weasley lay stretched out, eyes shut, mouth slightly open, and every bit of exposed skin deathly pale. On the chair next to him sat Fred, huddled up on himself, almost as pale as his twin, eyes wide and unseeing as he gazed blankly down at the still form in front of him. Harry had never seen such a sorry sight – the very life of the liveliest person he knew seemed to have been sucked out, leaving a lost, scared little boy in his place.

"I've sent owls to Bill and Charlie." sighed Mr Weasley, taking the unoccupied seat next to his wife, who was apparently beyond tears as she gazed down at her son. Hermione crossed the room and slipped one arm around Ron. He leaned into her hold slightly, and for a moment nobody spoke.

"What did the Healers say, Mum?" asked Ginny at last, and Harry realised with a start that he and Hermione were not the only ones present who did not know why one of their number was currently unconscious.

"They've got him stable," said Molly Weasley, her voice hoarse. "There's no more they can do for now, just keep him going."

Fred's body convulsed once, as though punched by an invisible hand. The others watched him for a moment, but he moved no more.

"I'm getting a drink," muttered Ginny suddenly, making an ungraceful, almost blundering move to the door. She was followed a moment later by Harry, Ron and Hermione.

They found her leaning against the wall outside, head pressed against the cool paint.

"I can't bare it in there," she muttered as the others surrounded her. "It's like a morgue."

"What happened?" whispered Hermione, her arm still firmly latched around Ron.

"Bellatrix." spat Ron, a hatred Harry had never heard before laced in his voice. "Recognised her voice. It was her who got George."

"Cruciatus?"

"No, or that's not what made him like that, anyway." said Ginny quietly, eyesw closed..

"I've never seen Fred look so awful." Ron sighed, glancing back into the room through the glass pane by the door.

"He comes as a pair. It's not right to see him on his own." explained Hermione sadly.

"Let's just hope he doesn't have to, then." said Ginny grimly, and silence fell.

**HTCHB**

Remus walked through the corridors of St Mungo's, searching out the distinctive red hair that would mean he had found the Weasleys. It had been nearly two hours since Harry and Hermione had left, and a mix of Lily's instruction and his own desire to check on he family that had been so good to him meant he had decided to follow.

They were all in there, when he finally found the ward. Molly and Arthur, both seeming to have aged more over the day since they had in the entire time Remus had known them. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny sat slightly apart in one corner, occasionally talking quietly, all the while shooting worried looks towards the figures on and by the bed. George, so still and pale Remus could easily have passed him off as being dead, and Fred, looking as though his world was crumbling away right before his eyes. Which, in a way, it was.

He cleared his throat to announce his presence, and Molly looked up.

"Remus!" she said, attempting a smile that wouldn't reach her eyes.

"I came to see how you all were." he said quietly, dragging his eyes away from the eerie sight of totally still Weasley twins.

Molly filled him in quickly on what had happened, and on George's state, which hadn't changed since Harry and Hermione had arrived.

"They say," said Molly, faltering slightly as she glanced at her twins, "they say that if he lasts the night, he's got a good chance."

Remus nodded, and tried to gently guide Molly back into her chair. His arrival, however, seemed to have woken her from whatever trance she had been in, for she started looking from her watch to her other children.

"I should be getting you home." she muttered, glancing again at the son on the bed. "It's late, you've not eaten…"

"I've been sent by Lily to offer beds to any who want them." interrupted Remus quickly. "She thought you might want to stay here, so anyone who's allowed out is welcome to stay with them for the night."

"Ron, Ginny?" Arthur looked across to his two youngest.

Ron frowned. "I want to stay…if anything happens…"

Ginny nodded, glaring fiercely. Molly, however, already at her wits end, was having none of it.

"You'll do him no good hanging around here. You need food, and a proper nights sleep."

Ron opened his mouth to protest some more, but Hermione squeezed his hand and shook her head slightly. Ginny sighed.

"Alright," she said, deflating somewhat. Harry suddenly realised just how much the day's events had shaken her – she would have normally put up a much bigger fight than that.

Molly hugged her children, probably harder than she would normally have done, and the four turned to follow Remus, each sending their own glances towards the bed. No one said anything, but Harry could guess that the same thoughts were in all of their heads – would they be seeing George alive again?

**HTCHB**

James looked up as the fire turned green, hand automatically reaching for his wand despite the fact that very few people had the connection to their fireplace. A moment later, however, Remus stepped out, dusting soot off himself as he did so.

"Harry's on his way back." he said calmly, looking up at his friend. "And Ginny and Ron are coming to stay."

"Is anyone badly hurt?" James asked, thinking worriedly of the friendly family they had come to know over the past few months.

Remus nodded grimly. "George. They don't know what's wrong with him, but he's in some sort of coma in St Mungos. Arthur and Molly are staying, and we didn't even try to make Fred move. The others are a bit shaken, but there's no lasting physical damage."

As he spoke, the fire had erupted once more, and Harry stepped out, followed a minute later by Ginny. Lily walked in just as Hermione and Ron appeared.

"Is it just you three?" she asked, evidently going over beds in her mind.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Mum and Dad are staying with George and Fred."

"Have you eaten?"

Ginny shook her head, and Hermione turned back to the fireplace.

"I'd better go."

"You don't have to," put in Lily quickly. "You're more than welcome to stay here too."

Hermione hesitated, and then smiled and nodded. "Thanks." she said. "I was meant to be staying over at the Burrow anyway, so my mum and dad won't be expecting me back."

"Izzy's already in Jane's room, but I've put Gemma in with Jack, so if you two have her room, and Ron can go in with Harry."

Ginny, Ron and Hermione all looked uncertainly at Harry, who was hit by a ray of realisation.

"You've never been here before." he said stupidly, and Ginny, despite her pale face, rolled her eyes.

"Tour?" prompted Hermione with a small smile, and, grinning for the first time all evening, Harry acquiesced.

**HTCHB**

Much later that night, Lily and James sat together in bed and discussed the days happenings in quiet tones. They were very aware of the sleeping teen's and pre-teens who surrounded them on all sides, and, as Lily said, "those two Weasleys will be dead on their feet without a proper nights sleep."

But sleep would not come so easily for the two of them. Over the past few months, they had meet all of the extensive Weasley clan bar the strangely missing Percy, but, ironically, the two they knew least well were the two closest to their son. They had heard much about the two youngest Weasleys from Harry, both in his initial tales the previous summer and in his letters since, and Jane too talked about them frequently (her mother had been subject to a most amusing letter several weeks previously, in which Jane vented her disgust at walking into the common room one night to find her bother and his girlfriend locked at the mouth), but had not actually met the pair since their brief stay in Hogwarts the previous October.

"They seem nice." was James's view on the subject, causing his wife to snort.

"James, that girl could well end up being your daughter-in-law, and all you can say is 'nice'?"

James rolled his eyes.

"Give them a chance, Lily. They've been going out, what, three months? And you're already choosing hats."

"We've only known for three months. That's completely different. They could have been going out before, and Jane simply never knew."

"Even so. The girl's brother is potentially dying in hospital. It's probably not polite to put her under the third degree."

Lily rolled her eyes and sighed.

"You make it sound like I was suggesting medieval torture. All I want to know is your opinion on the three people closest to your eldest son."

There was a humph from the body next to her as James Potter rolled over, so that he was facing the wall.

"In all honesty," he began, after a few moments of silence, "I think that Ginny Weasley is pretty, fairly smart, and with a temper that should not be roused. I think Hermione is so clever she could be sitting NEWTs next week, not too hard on the eyes, and quite level headed. I think Ron is smarter than he makes out, always up for a good laugh, and good at keeping his head in a crisis. And I think all three of them are loyal to the point of stupidity, amazingly brave, and, quite frankly, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather Harry be best friends with."

And, smiling slightly at the surprised look he just knew would be on his wife's face, James Potter closed his eyes.

**HTCHB**

Arthur Weasley arrived at about ten o'clock the following morning, looking pale and tired, but smiling just the same.

"He's ok," he said, as Lily guided the shaking man into an armchair. "He made it through the night, and the Healers said this morning that his vitals were starting to pick up. He should wake up some time today."

Ginny and Ron both sagged with relief – they had rushed into the sitting room the minute Gemma had appeared in Harry's room, declaring that the fire was green.

"Do they know what was wrong with him?" asked Hermione quietly, colour returning to her cheeks for the first time in over twelve hours.

"A curse of some kind. They said he can't have borne the full brunt of it, or he'd have died on the spot."

"I'm going to kill her." muttered Ginny under her breath, fists clenched tight. None of the others needed to ask who she meant. "I'm going to hunt her down and kill her with my own bare hands."

"You'll do no such thing." said Mr Weasley, sounding unnaturally sharp. "Your mother's got enough on her plate as it is, with George out for the count and Fred looking like he's been kissed by a Dementor. You're not going anywhere, you understand? Either of you." he added, glancing over at his son.

"What do you want me to do, promise I won't go looking for the mad mass murderer?" snapped Ginny, anger reaching boiling point.

"Yes! I once made Harry promise that, and now I'm making you and Ron. Please, Ginny."

Looking slightly mollified by her father's calmer tone, Ginny nodded curtly, and, after a moments pause, so did Ron.

"Good." said Arthur, sounding perfectly normal once more. "Now, I must be getting back to St Mungos. The Healers aren't letting anyone else in at the moment; Bill had to shout at one of them for about ten minutes before he was allowed, but I promise I'll come and let you know the moment anything changes."

He glanced over to where James had been watching the entire exchange from the doorway.

"Are they alright to stay here another day?" he asked, sounding slightly hesitant. "Only, I know their mother won't leave until George is awake, and…"

"It's fine, Arthur." interrupted James. "They're welcome to stay as long as they need too. We'll have them until the end of the holidays, if you want; that'll be one thing of Molly and your minds."

Arthur nodded and smiled.

"Thank you." he said, and disappeared back into the fireplace.

**HTCHB**

Much later on that afternoon, the four teenagers sat in Harry's room and discussed a disturbingly common topic; Voldemort.

"I just don't get it." Harry was saying. "Why the shop? I mean, yeah, you lot were there, but a couple of hours earlier and it would have been packed with customers too."

"It's a warning." said Hermione quietly. "They're not strong enough to attack Diagon Ally when it's full of wizards, but at the end of the day, when there aren't so many about…the Burrow and here are too well protected, but it's not feasible to ward a shop. It's a reminder to us that they're about."

But Harry was shaking his head.

"No. There's more to it than that. They're planning something. I don't know what, but it's something, and they wanted Fred and George, and maybe you two, out of the way."

"But what?" asked Ron, voicing the question in everyone's mind.

Harry sighed, and shook his head again.

"I don't know." he said quietly, absentmindedly rubbing his scar. "I really, really don't know."

* * *

Well, I did say only some would be revealed…

Favour to ask you all. Over the summer, I have been going back over this story and editing, correcting typos and condensing. I realised, rather alarmingly, that while it took me over thirty chapters to reach Christmas, I then hit Easter in another five. Should I go back and add more in in the springtime, or leave it be? And any other suggestions, corrections or comments you wish to make, please do! This author needs you!

See you all next Monday, folks. It's good to be back.


	41. In Which We Play Quidditch

Hey ho, back to school we go! Nice to be back, oddly. Although Wednesday was my last frist day at school ever. Which was slightly weird.

My grateful thanks to the following for their words of advice and support: **DancingCavalier, NamelessHeretic, elphaba731, NakedQuidditchFan, violingirl7, flower123, Dunc, Prongsgrl, Broken Fire Hydrant, dingohart, jkarr, Mei1105, Lucyanne, thefirstduckie, Kyuubikitsune9, lemonwedges4, PHEONIX39, Scruffable15, TheRedBandit, Isis the Sphinx, ballerinadoll9, LostHeart4, honorchoirsinger **and** petites sorcieres. **

And winner of the HTCHB sweepstake this week (sorry about the lack of last week): **H**eavy**T**hings**C**rash**H**aphazardly**B**elow, from Rose's Thorne.

Enjoy!

* * *

The remainder of the holidays passed in a blur. Arthur Weasley arrived again that evening, to say that George had woken up briefly, exchanged a few nonsense words with his brother, and promptly fallen asleep. Ron and Ginny went to see him the following day, and Harry and Hermione went with them the day after that. The twins, it seemed, were suffering few after-effects from the attack; as Harry left the room after a surprisingly merry visit, he could have sworn he heard them discussing plans for their latest invention. 

Tonks and Ginny disappeared for an afternoon, much to the bemusement of the rest of the Potter household, and Ginny returned uncharacteristically giggly. Harry made a mental note to avoid the two of them together at all costs.

Eventually, the final day of the holidays rolled round. It was a surprisingly sunny day, considering the gloom that appeared to have settled over the past week, and our four heroes were to be found sitting in the Potter's garden, bare feet dangling in the stream.

"When are they releasing George, Ginny?" Hermione asked curiously, breaking the contented silence that had fallen over the group.

"Next Friday, I think. Provided he doesn't escape before then, it's driving him stir-crazy being stuck in there all day."

"Mum's already concocting plans on keeping the pair of them at the Burrow, too, for as long as she can." added Ron with a grin. "She reckons they'll be murdered in their beds if they stay in the flat."

"They'll never go for that." snorted Ginny. "Aside from having to do their own washing, they love living away from home."

"S'your mum, though." grinned Harry. "I'd be too scared not to do as she says."

Ginny poked him.

"Wimp."

Hermione, however, didn't appear to be listening. She was watching Paddy, who was playing with Gemma, through narrowed eyes.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" asked Ron, noticing her distraction.

"What?" She started, jerked out of whatever daze she had been in. "Oh. Yeah. It's nothing. I was just thinking…"

Ron rolled his eyes, while Harry and Ginny laughed.

"One day, Hermione, I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to answer in a complete sentence, which actually makes sense. On the same day, Malfoy will marry a Gryffindor, Snape'll start handing out sweets, and…and…"

"Pigs will fly." Harry finished for his friend, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah. That one too."

Hermione merely snorted. "Honestly Ron. As I was just about to say, before you decided to plunge right in and interrupt me, Harry, is it just me or does your dog look a bit like Sirius?"

Harry blinked, slightly surprised by the question.

"Yeah, I know. It was a bit of a shook, the first time I saw him."

"And his name's Paddy, too, isn't it?"

"Yeah…what are you getting at, Hermione?"

"Nothing…it's just curious, that's all."

"What is?"

"Well, your mum and dad. They've got a dog that looks like Sirius, and they named it an abbreviation of his nickname. They've got a cat called Phoenix, your mum was accidentally painting amazingly accurate pictures of Hogwarts, and they named their child after someone who had once been one of their best friends. Without realising. It just goes to show how amazing the human brain is."

"Fascinating, Hermione." groaned Ron with another roll of his eyes. "Just fascinating."

"Well I think it is." sniffed Hermione peevishly, causing Ginny to sigh.

"Come on you two, don't start an argument now. It's the end of the holidays; we've got to go back to school tomorrow. Do something else."

"Like what?" asked Hermione, still riled by Ron's disinterest in her musings.

Harry's eyes feel on the stream they were all dangling their legs in, and suddenly remembered the first time he had come.

"Like this." he said with a grin, and flicked water at his girlfriend.

Moments later, all four had fallen into a very noisy water fight.

**HeavyThingsCrashHaphazardlyBelow**

All in all, it was with vague disappointment that the younger household members returned to Hogwarts. The train ride, however, was as fun as ever; Ron and Hermione were not required in the Prefect carriages for this trip, and so the six friends sat playing exploding snap, swapping chocolate frog cards, and talking, to wile away the hours.

Despite the light atmosphere, however, as they pulled on their Hogwarts robes, there was something playing on Harrys mind. The memory of George's pale face, that awful five minutes when his heart had been determined to believe it was Ron or Ginny who had been hurt…they trailed round Harry's head, adding to the burning desire he had to sort the whole bloody thing out. This time round, he had far more to loose.

**HeavyThingsCrashHaphazardlyBelow**

There were, however, far more important things on the minds of the population of Hogwarts than an unsuccessful attack on the Weasley twins. The quidditch final, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, was drawing ever closer.

Thanks to a narrow lose to Ravenclaw, the Gryffindor team needed to win this game to be in hope of the cup. Their spectacular win over Slytherin meant the green team were out of the running for the first time in Harry's memory, but if they were to stop the Ravenclaws from walking away with it, they had to win this match. By two hundred points. It was third year all over again, and Harry was determined to repeat the outcome.

The biggest problem playing on his mind was Izzy. She was an excellent chaser, good at passing and receiving, and at moving the Quaffle about the pitch. But the fact remained that in two matches now she had not scored a single goal. And people were beginning to notice. He didn't say anything, but Harry knew that if Izzy was going to return to the team next year, she had to score at least one goal in the upcoming match. Both for her own confidence, and to stop the snide remarks. Hogwarts took quidditch very seriously, and the Gryffindors would not be happy if they lost their cup thanks to an inept first year chaser.

**HeavyThingsCrashHaphazardlyBelow**

The pitch was shrouded in mist as the Gryffindor team made their way across the front lawns. It was a dull, overcast day, unsuited to April, and the lack of visibility was not going to make the task ahead any easier.

"Ok, team." Harry began, once they were safely in the changing rooms and wearing their robes. He didn't like making the pre-match pep talks, but they were expected, and that was it. "You know what we've got to do. Ginny, Katie, Izzy, try and hit five goals as quick as you can. Sammy, Annie, keep half an eye on the Hufflepuff seeker. If it looks like she's seen the snitch before we're fifty points ahead, distract her any way you can. Legally." he added quickly, seeing the smile beginning on Annie's face. She was nothing if not her brother's sister. "And Ron?"

Ron looked up, his face the usual pale green that announced a quidditch match.

"Fly like you have been, and I'll have no complaints."

The redhead nodded, and even managed to smile a little.

Smiling round at them one final time, Harry turned and led his team out onto the pitch.

"And here come the Gryffindors! Potter, Leeks, Jordon, Bell, Malfoy, Weasley and Weasley! Quite a turn around this year, a lot of new faces, but they proved themselves against Slytherin, and the result of this match will determine whether they can take away the cup."

Harry smiled at the look of wonder on Izzy's face as Charlie's voice soared over the crowd. The boy had been immensely proud when McGonagall had agreed to letting him commentate (although Harry had a sneaking suspicion that had something to do with having good grounds to refuse Luna), but he had somehow managed to keep it secret from Izzy.

And then he and the Hufflepuff captain, a smiley seventh year, were shaking hands, and Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle, and they were off once more.

"And it's Gryffindor in position, Weasley with the quaffle…"

Harry laughed to himself as he listened to Charlie's commentating – never had he heard the boy sound so earnest. He had evidently spent the week memorising the names of every person on the Hufflepuff team, for he rattled them off without a second thought.

For the first time, soaring above the school, Harry realised he had never played in a match where his team was quite so unpopular. Normally, of course, he'd have either Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws, or indeed both, supporting him, bought together by the desire to see the downfall of Slytherin. But today…Hufflepuffs were, of course, supporting their own, Ravenclaws were with Hufflepuffs, simply because if Gryffindor won with the right point margin, they lost the cup, and Slytherins supported Hufflepuffs on the principle of not supporting Gryffindor.

"And Roberts is speeding towards the hoops…dodges one bludger…come on Ron, save!"

The Gryffindor end cheered as Ron neatly caught the admittedly poorly thrown shot. Harry grinned at the look of pride on his friends face; even such a simple save early on in the game would hopefully do wonders for his confidence.

"And now it's Weasley in possession…"

Above the match, Harry kept half an eye on the Hufflepuff Seeker; ready to distract her the moment it looked like the snitch had made an appearance. She was a small fourth year, riding a Nimbus Two Thousand, her face set. Even if they'd already lost the war, Hufflepuff seemed determined to win the battle.

Ginny scored about five minutes later, much to the appreciation of the Gryffindor end. Harry saw Izzy cheering as the Hufflepuff keeper flew to collect the quaffle, giving Katie a high five as they passed in mid-air. The first year was surprisingly extrovert around the quidditch pitch; her usual quiet shyness apparently forgotten.

Gryffindor were thirty points up when the first Hufflepuff goal of the match was scored, Katie having followed up Ginny's first goal with two of her own. Even so, Harry had to stifle a groan; every time the Hufflepuffs scored, it meant the Gryffindor three had to score one more to be in chance of the cup, for they needed to win by a clear two hundred points.

That thought seemed to have struck Ron as well, for he was now guarding the hoops with new determination, following the chasers every move with narrowed eyes.

The game went on, half an hour lapsing into an hour. Katie and Ginny scored twice more apiece, but two Hufflepuff chasers managed to break through Ron's dogged guard, and so the score was at 70 – 30 when it happened.

Harry was at one end of the pitch, the Hufflepuff seeker circling above him. Ginny had just dropped the quaffle down to Izzy, having narrowly avoided being flattened by a bludger, when the yellow-clad seeker seemed to just drop out of the sky. Harry saw the movement, and, following the dive, saw the small golden ball hovering a few meters off the grass. He instantly pulled the firebolt round and flew after the other seeker. He had the better broom, and a small head start, but unless one of the Gryffindor chasers managed to score in the next thirty seconds they were finished.

Two bludgers, two beaters and Ginny all zoomed past him, heading in the opposite direction in an attempt to throw off the Hufflepuff seeker. But Harry didn't need to turn round to know that it hadn't worked.

"And Cawly dodges two bludgers, two beaters and Weasley…Potter still has a slight lead…and Malfoy's speeding up the pitch with the quaffle…come on Izzy!…Bell's following, but she's been waylaid by a bludger…come ON Izzy!"

It happened so quickly Charlie barely had time to draw breath. Izzy, on the very edge of the goal area, took a wild shot at the hoops, and, not milliseconds later, Harry's hand closed round the snitch.

There was the sound of a thousand indrawn breathes as the entire school turned to look up at the commentators podium.

"And…thanks to an amazing last minute goal from the Gryffindor chaser…Gryffindor win! 230 – 30!" came Charlie's cry, ending in a load thump as he dropped the megaphone in his eagerness to reach the pitch. Feeling slightly dazed, Harry felt something small and blonde collide into him, followed moments later by Katie. Then came Ginny, and Ron soaring over from the opposite goals, and the sound of Annie and Sammy hammering their bats together in delight before joining the giant scarlet spider that had formed in mid-air. Cheering and laughing, the Gryffindor team floated to the ground.

They were instantly swamped by hordes of ecstatic supporters. Bourne by the crowd, the seven made their slow way towards the teachers' podium.

Dumbledore beamed as he handed the cup over once more. Harry took it, and, on impulse, handed it on to Izzy, who, with what looked suspiciously like tears running down her cheeks, turned to the crowd and waved it above her head.

**HeavyThingsCrashHaphazardlyBelow**

The party lasted all day, and well into the night. Someone produced a Gryffindor banner from somewhere and draped it around Izzy's neck, and Katie spent a good ten minutes telling the girl that that was "the most spectacular first goal for any chaser on any team _ever_!"

People kept starting impromptu mass hugs, normally centred around one or other of the team. Annie and Charlie disappeared, returning half an hour later with bags of sweets and more butterbeer than Harry had ever seen in his life. The cup was passed from hand to hand, examined and polished by every person who touched it. No one cared that they'd had it for three years now, no one cared that they'd seen it before the previous year…right here, right now, they'd won, full stop.

Midnight rolled round and the threat of McGonagall began to penetrate people's brains. They began to trickle off to bed, slapping the team once more on the back as they passed, until, eventually, only the seven team-members remained.

Harry grinned round at them.

"Good match?" offered Annie with a small smile, and they all laughed.

"To next year." piped up Sammy, holding up his butterbeer.

The others grinned and nodded, and, with the clinking and clanging of seven almost empty bottles being banged together, they toasted themselves.

"To next year!"

**HeavyThingsCrashHaphazardlyBelow**

Everything seemed to be celebrating Gryffindor's continued claim of the Quidditch Cup; the weather in the weeks that followed took a definite turn for the better, the sun coming out most days. Even more surprising, it seemed that the Death Eaters had gone underground since the attack on Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The _Prophet _contained nothing more sinister than the resignation of the occasional Ministry wizard, caught in this wrongdoing or that scandal, and, slowly, the Wizarding world began to breathe again.

Most of it, anyway.

**HeavyThingsCrashHaphazardlyBelow**

In a little known about, little used room in Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, a strange activity was going on. Students would gather most evenings, and the room, ever obliging, would shape itself accordingly.

Boxes of newspapers, both muggle and wizard, would appear in one corner. A large pin board, stretching the entire length of the room, went down the middle, and, on a small table, lay several pairs of scissors and an enormous tub of pins.

Those who gathered were those who had gathered before. What had once been a place for teaching and learning, for rebellion and underground happenings, became a room for thinking, for working out, for putting the clues together.

* * *

And on that note, we close once more…rather worringly, according to my calcuelations, there are only about five to eight chapters left…it's coming to an end! 

See you all next week!


	42. In Which The Clues Are Put Together

Another week by…hello my friends. Don't do sixth form. Just don't. So much homework! I've been lucky enough to have Friday last lesson free for the past two years, but found myself actually working during it last week! Something I have managed to avoid for the entire of year twelve! Pah!

My eternal thanks to those who reviewed last week: NamelessHeretic, ballerinadoll9, Isis the Sphinx, Nessa19, lemonwedges4, Broken Fire Hydrant and Emmy-loo.

And the winner of this weeks HTCHB contest is tickledorange with **H**arry**T**eaches**C**hipper**H**ippos**B**allet'

Last chapter of relative calm…heats up next week. At last.

* * *

"It's just so annoying!"

The enraged voice of Hermione Granger cut across the still air of the Room of Requirement. She was pacing up and down in front of a large pin board, which stretched the length of the room, glaring furiously at the newspaper clippings that covered it as though they had committed a crime against her very person.

Her companions exchanged amused glances. The situation itself was not amusing – far from it, indeed, but Hermione's outbursts, which were becoming more and more frequent with each passing day, were.

"Stop doing that!"

Ron and Harry both quickly looked away, while Ginny got to her feet, and, sighing, walked over to her friend.

"Hermione, you need to calm down." she said, leading the older girl back to where the others were sitting. "Think about it with a clear head."

"Found anything?"

Four heads swivelled to look towards the door. Neville and Luna stood there, Luna clutching a large book, Neville several copies of the Daily Prophet.

"Nothing new." said Ron quickly, before Hermione could get worked up again.

"Hmm." Luna hummed to herself as she wandered round the board, gazing at it thoughtfully. After a few moments, the others joined her, Hermione looking distinctly calmer.

"What have we got so far, anyway?" mused Ginny from one end. "Seventy-two fatal attacks of a period of nearly seven months. Seventy-eight if you count none-fatal. Not counting at all the Dementor at Harry's last August."

"At their worst, there were two or three a day. At the best, maybe one a fortnight." added Neville, running his finger down a list of dates. "No pattern in the gaps, though. Nor any theme we can find in the dates."

"The victims of successive attacks are rarely related, and it seems to be accidental when they are, so it doesn't seem to be a family thing." Harry chimed in.

"A few muggles and wizards, but the targets seem to be muggleborns. The others are just getting in the way." finished Hermione bitterly. She had said nothing about it, but the others had guessed her greatest drive on this scheme was fear for her parents. "And that's all we know."

"That's not bad, you know, for three weeks work. Especially considering Ginny and Luna have got exams coming up." pointed out Ron reasonably.

Harry shook his head. Ever since their return to Hogwarts after the Easter break, the six had been gathering most evenings, pouring over old copies of the Daily Prophet, desperately trying to make any form of connection between the attacks over the past six months. Harry had not forgotten the vow he had made to himself, but the fact remained that while under the increasingly watchful eyes of the Hogwarts staff, there was very little he could do.

So, one evening, having grown sick of him venting his frustration over the matter, Hermione had dragged him into the Room of Requirement and told him to bloody well try and work it out.

And that was what they'd been doing ever since. Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna had all been recruited, Charlie, Jane and Izzy would come up some evenings, while others, mainly old members of the DA, took to popping in occasionally as rumours of what they were up to began to spread.

But so far they had not reached any major breakthroughs, other than the fact that every link Hermione had thought possible had been crossed off her list. April was drawing to a close, bringing Ginny and Luna's OWLs, not to mention end of year exams for much of the school, ever nearer, and they were beginning to loose faith. Hermione in particular seemed to be taking it very personally; not since Nicholas Flamel had her research yielded such poor results.

"Can we come in?"

All heads turned to the doorway once more, where Dean and Seamus now stood.

"You're particularly welcome if you've infiltrated the Death Eaters and learnt the intricate details of their grand master plan." shrugged Ginny. "But yeah, either way."

"No luck then." sighed Dean, joining the group staring at the boards.

"I don't suppose," Seamus began hesitantly, as all eyes turned to him, "I don't suppose…maybe there is no link? They're just all totally random killings aimed at muggleborns?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. There is more of a pattern than that; the attacks themselves are far too well planned. Do you know how many Death Eaters have actually been caught at the scene? Two. And both had been incapacitated by their potential victims. They're going in, aiming for one or two people max, and leaving the moment they've got them, no hanging around. Kill anyone else in the way, but get out before the aurors come. But who are the targets, and why? Some of these people are connected, somehow, and if we know how then we might be able to pre-empt the next attack."

"There's one link you've not got up here." mused Seamus thoughtfully. "Almost all the victims, bar the muggles, came through Hogwarts."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They and the rest of the Wizarding world. Nothing special about that."

Seamus, however, was frowning, studying the horrifically long list of the dead.

"No, Hermione…wait. First fatal attack. November ninth. Twelve dead. Oldest was a woman called Margaret Hodgins, aged eighty-three. Next one, November eighteenth, three dead. Lucy Harris, fifty-four, John Harris, fifty-five, and his father, Michael Harris, eighty-two. And the one after that, only one dead, Phillip Moores, eighty-one. Anyone else getting this?"

"Does it continue?" gabbled Hermione, sounding more excited than she had all month as she raced over to Seamus.

"Yep…all the way through until just before Easter. Last fatal attack involved Wendy Griffiths, nineteen. She was a Hufflepuff, couple of years above us."

"There you go, Hermione." said Ginny with a roll of her eyes. "You got your link. Just doesn't make sense. Why _ages_?"

Hermione, however, had a broad smile spreading right across her face.

"Oh don't you see?" she cried, almost laughing in sheer relief. "It's so _simple_, so _obvious_…"

"And day this week would be appreciated." pressed Ron.

"It's what Seamus said. Every single one of those people has been through Hogwarts. So…you kill one person from each year, see? I mean, we know all of our year, and we'll probably at least remember their names for most of our lives. So you kill one of them, and everyone's affected by it. It's one thing to read the death of a faceless, but if it's someone you remember going to school with…it's personal. Everyone's affected, really affected."

Neville frowned. "But why start now? What's it for?"

Hermione was getting more and more excited. "That's the brilliant part, see. Voldemort knew he could be beaten, right? He might not want to think about it, but the fact remains that Harry ripped him from his body once, and so could probably do it again. But this time round he's prepared; he knows it can happen. So he needs information to leave for the Death Eaters, what to do should he disappear again."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, I can see it now. 'To Do' list pinned up in the Malfoy's sitting room."

"But that's just it! It's so simple; it doesn't even need writing down. Kill one person from every year to have gone through Hogwarts in the past however many years. An idiot could remember that. Seamus, you absolute genius!"

Seamus coloured slightly, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"Why though? What's the point?" Ron, slightly put out by Hermione's praise of Seamus, thrust himself back into the conversation.

"A few things." said Ginny, with a sudden look of dawning comprehension. "I mean, first, yeah, it keeps people on their toes, reminds them that all's not well and good. But it stops the Death Eaters drifting off, too, keeps them together, ready and preparing for his return. Which will be attempted soon, too, I think."

A silence met this last comment, as all faces turned to stare at Ginny.

"What makes you say that?" gaped Neville, who had turned pale.

"Logic. Look, they've been moving backwards, getting closer and closer to the current years. That Hufflepuff, she was the year above Fred and George. I reckon one or both of them were meant to die in the attack on the shop – that's why they chose closing time, when it was more deserted."

"But they didn't manage." said Harry thoughtfully.

"So they'll either decide that the attack was enough, and move on to the next year, or go for another attempt." Luna said in her matter of fact way.

"How on earth do they think they can get at them while they're still in Hogwarts, though? Unless they wait 'til school finishes…" mused Dean aloud.

"No." said Harry, suddenly feeling sick in the stomach. "They don't need to wait. Hogsmeade."

There was a deathly silence.

"When?" asked Dean quietly.

"End of June." supplied Ginny. "Weekend after exams finish."

"What do we do, then? Dumbledore?" Neville asked worriedly, while Hermione began re-arranging the board in favour of the new theory.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He'll have to cancel the trip. And work out something for the summer."

"If he believes us." pointed out Seamus.

"He'll believe us." said Hermione, with a grim determination in her voice. "It's whether anyone else will."

**HarryTeachesChipperHipposBallet**

Hermione had been right. After a five-minute argument with the gargoyle, the eight students had trouped into the Headmasters office, each clutching piles of newspaper and parchment.

He listened to them without speaking, eyes flitting from Hermione, who was doing most of the talking, to the others, who were holding up what they hoped were the relevant articles to Hermione's words.

Eventually, she trailed off, leaving an uncomfortable silence to settle over the office. Dumbledore looked over them, gazing steadily at each student in turn.

"I'm impressed." he said quietly.

"You see what needs to be done, then, Professor?" asked Hermione quickly, relief rising from her in waves.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger. Forgive an old man his muddles, but allow me to clear a few things up with you. You believe Voldemort foresaw the possibility of a second defeat?"

"Yes."

"And so left instructions with his Death Eaters, to be carried out in the event of said defeat?"

"Yes!"

"The crux of it being, they have killed one person from each year to have left Hogwarts in the past seventy? And, depending upon how they judged the attack on the Misters Weasley and Weasley, are due to aim for one of our current seventh years?"

"YES!"

"Then we have a problem."

Harry saw Hermione visibly deflate out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't blame her; she'd put so much effort into their work the last few weeks, determined to see the end, and the moment it appeared to be in sight, the wind whipped it away once more. He wasn't disappointed, though; unlike Hermione, Harry had realised the fact that, in spite of contrary belief, the Head could not make absolutely everything all right. No matter how much even he might wish it.

"But sir…" Ron put in, equally determined their efforts should not be in vain, "why? I mean, if the next Hogsmeade is cancelled, that will protect them until the end of the school year…and then, during the summer…"

His voice trailed off, whether due to the Headmasters gaze or the realisation of the enormity of protecting so many people in so many different places for two months, Harry wasn't sure.

"Your intentions do you credit, Mr Weasley, but I'm afraid they are not possible."

"Why not?!" cried Ginny, flaring up. "Professor, the Death Eaters won't distinguish between seventh year and anyone else; it could turn into a massacre."

"Miss Weasley, calm yourself. Think this through, for a moment, all of you. If the Hogsmeade trip is cancelled, the Death Eaters will instantly guess we know what they are up to. It would then make perfect sense for them to wait instead until the summer, when all students are home, relatively unprotected, before striking. Let them try on the Hogsmeade weekend; you think, with all that has gone on this year, I have been letting you down there with out protection? My students are far safer if an attack should occur while they are in Hogsmeade than if one of them were to be targeted in their own home."

Harry could see the others, even Neville, opening their mouths to argue once more, but he shot them a glance to silence them. There was a tone in the old wizards voice that told him argument would be futile; his mind was made up.

He would do nothing.

**HarryTeachesChipperHipposBallet**

They trouped out, dejected and disheartened.

"Whatta we do now?" asked Dean glumly as they returned to the Room of Requirement, to dump the research.

Hermione shrugged; she had not spoken since they had left Dumbledore's office, and looked close to tears.

It was Neville who answered.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked bluntly, looking round at them. "We call the DA."

Harry felt a reluctant smile spread across his face, although Ron continued to look bemused.

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"The DA." repeated Harry. "We alert the DA, get them all into Hogsmeade that weekend. They keep an eye on the seventh years, and look out for anything suspicious. The moment they see anything, they report it, somehow, quickly…"

"The coins." said Ginny brightly. "Hermione, can you modify the charm, so any of us can alter them, make them burn? Then the moment we think someone's in trouble, we alter our coin to say where, and everyone either comes or gets whoever of the Order Dumbledore's got down there."

"It'll be dangerous." pointed out Seamus, a slight tremor in his voice. "I mean…Death Eaters and stuff…"

"No one has to help if they don't want to." said Harry sharply, thinking of some of the more nervous members of the DA.

"I will." piped up Luna, looking oddly serious.

"And me." threw in Neville instantly.

Dean and Seamus looked at each other for a moment, and then nodded together. Finally, Harry's eyes turned to Ginny, Ron and Hermione. They said nothing, did nothing, simply looked straight back at him. Whatever he did, they weren't just behind him; they were level, every step of the way.

* * *

Next week…Hogsmeade trip, and it all goes wrong. Horribly wrong. After much debate, with myself and my sister, I've decided. People are going to die. Like, named people. Starting next week.

Cheery thought to close on. See you then!

And review! Please!


	43. In Which the End Begins

Greetings friends. How are we all today? I'm now panicking about my uni application, but there we go…hopefully it'll be in by the end of the week.

People who's reviews took my mind of the panic, and so are forever loved, were **Isis the Sphinx, ballerinadoll9, NamelessHeretic, Mei1105, Nessa19, lemonwedges4, Broken Fire Hydrant, Emmy-loo, GinnyP0tter, Joeyperson, FalseReflections, PHEONIX39, dingohart, LimeJuiceTub** and **TheRedBandit.**

Ok, bit of shameless self-advertising here: I've got a new oneshot up, called "A Week by the Sea", taking a peek at Harry one year after the end of the Wizarding war. If anyone wants to take a look, clickage upon my author name and scroll downwards!

Annnnd…winner of this weeks HTCHB competition is **Olaf Erikson** with **H**arry**T**rades**C**ards**H**ow**B**oring (Sorry Tash!)

* * *

The room was crowded, full of students all eagerly watching a lone teenager.

"Well?" asked one, when it became apparent the teen was not about to speak.

Harry looked about at the eager faces arrayed before him. Despite his reservations about what he was about to do, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at the sight of them all, ready and determined despite the fact that they weren't entirely sure what was going on. Almost the entire of the DA still at Hogwarts were there, missing only Marietta and Zechariahs Smith.

"We need help." said Harry bluntly, figuring the quicker he got this out, the fewer arguments and interruptions there would be. "We think we've worked out what's been going on with the attacks the past year."

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly; many of those present had devoted a few evenings of their time to the project in the Room of Requirement, and Harry could almost feel the mood of the silence as people sat up straighter in their seats.

"The Death Eaters are killing one person from every year to have ever gone through Hogwarts. The Weasley twins were meant to have been the latest target."

A hubbub of voices broke out, some panicked, some confused, some questioning.

"How'd you know?"

"What d'you mean?"

And, above it all, the horrified voice of Cho Chang.

"Oh. My. GOD!"

Harry took advantage of the distraction her raised voice caused by drawing the attention back to him.

"Yeah. We figured it out, every fatal attack has included the death of someone from each Hogwarts year, going forwards from about seventy years ago."

"But that means…" Katie's voice again, and Harry could tell that she had already worked it out, perhaps not why they were all there but at least what he was trying to tell them.

"Means what?" called out Colin Creevy, looking from Katie to Harry.

"If we're right,"

"And we are." threw in Hermione.

"Then the next target would be one of the current seventh years."

For the first time, a true silence fell over the assembled pupils. Faces paled, eyes widened, utter stillness, even their breathing muffled.

"What are we gonna do then?" asked Lavender Brown, sounding unnaturally serious and quiet for one usually to be heard giggling.

"Next Hogsmeade weekend, we need all of you who are willing to help us keep guard. Not obviously, but keep an eye on the seventh years."

"You think that's when they're going to come?" even Ernie's ever-pompous tone had dimmed.

"Yes."

Never had Harry seen a single syllable cause such silence. A few people sent sideways glances towards Katie Bell, who was the colour of parchment, while others kept looking from Harry to Ron to Hermione and back again, as though begging them to click their fingers and make it all untrue.

"This is what we formed for." began Hermione, taking over. "Well, sort of. Getting rid of Umbridge, of course, but protecting people as well. Ourselves, originally, but other people too. Dumbledore says he can't cancel the trip, so someone needs to make sure everyone comes back ok."

"If anyone feels they can't, or doesn't want to for any reason, you can leave." said Ron grimly. "We won't hold it against you, this isn't a game. People could get hurt."

A few people shifted uncomfortably, but no one made a move to leave. Harry looked slowly round the room, staring into each face carefully, determined to hunt out even an inch of indecision.

There was none.

"Thank you," he said softly, nodding at them all. "Ok then. Here's the plan."

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

It was simple. It was easy. It was dangerous. It was the only plan they had.

The members of the DA were to spend the day in Hogsmeade as per normal, sticking to usual friendship groups wherever possible as so not to arouse suspicion. Each group was allocated a small number of seventh years known to be likely to go together; Katie and Cho drew up the lists of seventh-year friendship groups, highlighting those more likely to wander off the beaten path, and those likely to stay behind.

The moment anyone spotted anything unusual, anything slightly out of the ordinary, they were to activate the coins, alert anyone nearby and get out of the way.

"We don't want anyone hurt." explained Harry gravely, "These are Death Eaters we're dealing with. They won't hesitate just 'cause we're young, or not their intended target. You alert the rest of us, and we'll come, bringing as many teachers with us as possible. No one is to try anything on their own. Hopefully, we're over reacting. If not…"

He let the sentence trail off, and the meeting ended.

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

"You realise, Harry, that there aren't enough people in the DA to have more than one or two watching each seventh year?" Hermione pointed out the next evening. She had been drawing up lists of the DA against the entire of the seventh year, matching them up in preparation for the Hogsmeade trip. It would not do, after all, to have the entire DA following the same seventh year.

Harry sighed. "I know. Our only hope is the seventh years decide to spend the day in large groups; Katie and Cho were going to suggest that to their friends at any rate."

"But even so…half the DA's below fifth year. I mean, Dennis Creevy's only just about allowed into Hogsmeade anyway! And Katie and Cho can't really guard themselves, they're some of the ones in danger."

"What do you suggest we do then?" snapped Harry. "Call it off?"

"Of course not." said Hermione coolly, unperturbed. "I think we should write to Fred and George. And anyone else from the DA who's left Hogwarts. Ask them to come, if they can."

To the surprise of the three assembled teenagers, Harry did not instantly shoot down this idea with a declaration of keeping as many people safe as possible. Instead, after a moments thought, he nodded.

"Yeah. Ok."

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

The replies came thick and fast. Some, Fred and George included, had been in the process of writing to ask why their coins had changed when they received a copy of the note Ginny had painstakingly written out many times over. All agreed to the plan.

The only people within the group of friends not told of the plan were Izzy, Charlie and Jane. Harry saw no point in informing them; they would undoubtedly spend the day worrying, and he wouldn't put it past them to try and sneak into Hogwarts and "help". Plus, he had a fairly strong suspicion that Jane would tell his parents if she found out, and as he was yet to actually disobey a direct command from them, Harry didn't want to bring about the situation where he would have to.

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

The weeks rolled by, and the last weekend of June fast approached. Ginny started and finished her OWLs, leaving her little time to spend with Harry, much to the displeasure of both halves of the pair. Jane, Charlie and Izzy sat their end of year exams; never had Harry seen them work so hard.

Which was fortunate, in a way; had they been less intent on passing the year and more interested into the goings on around them Harry, Ron and Hermione would have struggled to keep their campaign from being found out. Every detail was being planned out meticulously – who was to follow who, which teachers they could expect to find down there and where, possible plans the Death Eaters could be concocting, anything.

The biggest hole in their scheme, of course, was the fact that no one could predict where the seventh years would go, and what they would be doing. It would be very hard, for example, to think of a reasonable excuse to be following someone out of the village and into the woods.

"But in the end," Hermione had declared one night after several hours of brainstorming, "it doesn't really matter. Bottom line is we need to keep them safe. Even if they do all then leave thinking they went to school with a bunch of loonies."

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

The day dawned bright and sunny. Cloudless skies, a gentle breeze, a perfect summers day. At breakfast, Harry saw most of the DA, looking grim and determined, their eyes already fixed upon their various assignees. Ron and Hermione nodded at Katie, whom they were watching, and Ginny was scanning the hall for Lucy Simons, a Hufflepuff she and Harry would be trailing. There was such a tenseness in the air that Harry wondered how anyone could not be feeling it, and yet, there were Izzy and Charlie and Jane, chatting and giggling like always.

Up on the teacher's table, however, it was a different story. Harry could feel the headmaster's eyes on him, and he knew the old man was wondering what he was planning and doing.

And then Lucy Simons clambered to her feet, gathering her small band of friends, and headed out the Hall. Ginny and Harry followed, as subtly as they could, a few moments later.

It was going to be a long day.

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

Around lunchtime, Harry began to relax. So far, nothing more suspicious than the sight of Fred and George Weasley walking straight past Zonkos without stopping had happened; Hermione had thought it a brilliant idea to assign them to Heather Mills, a very studious Ravenclaw.

Lucy was proving easy to follow; she moved from Honeydukes to Zonkos to the Three Broomsticks, all haunts of most Hogwarts students, and so easy to pass through unnoticed. They had seen several old friends; Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Lee Jordan, but if anyone noticed the increase in ex-pupils about that day, no one commented on it.

But, as afternoon turned to evening and people began to head back to the school, the world exploded.

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

_A cry, in pain, for help? Spinning round, looking for the source, but suddenly everything is slow…pain, infinite pain, stopping just as quickly as it came…people are shouting, someone is crying…thumps and scuffles from somewhere indicate a fight, but the pain is back, and seeing is impossible…_

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

The coin in Harrys pocket suddenly began to burn, furiously heating the skin on his legs. Harry yelped, then, realising what it was, grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled her to the side of the street. They were in the high street, somewhere between the Three Broomsticks and the alley where the Hogs Head stood, but Harry's mind was roving around the faces of the DA. Who was in trouble, which of them was right at this moment in danger? Selfishly grateful that Ginny was with him, all the while panicking for Hermione and Ron and the others, he scrabbled in his pocket and withdrew the coin.

"Hermione!" cried Ginny, reading her own. "The Shrieking Shack. Why on earth did they go up there?!"

Harry shook his head; no time for thought, no time for questions. His feet were already moving, propelling him forwards towards the path that led to the top of the village. Ginny was hot on his heals, and, in the corner of his eyes, he could see others too racing out of the village, all heading for the same place. Fred and George were fast catching up with Harry and Ginny, and behind them came Luna and Neville, followed closely by the Creevy brothers.

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

_And then all is calm. Peaceful, floating on a cloud…a voice in her head, telling her exactly what to do. Tie them up, gag them…hurt them, make them suffer like you just did. Kill them._

_No._

_Kill them._

_They are friends._

_They don't care. Kill them._

_No._

_And then there is a noise, a shout, the sound of running feet, breaking through the peace and quiet of this strange state of mind. Panic in the voices around her, now; so close, can't muck it up…Suddenly, she is on the floor, and her head is hurting. Blood in her eyes, blood in her hair…cut on her head…_

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

The shack came into view, and as one the group slowed. There was no sound, no cries, no shouts. It was unerringly quiet. Harry didn't want to think about what might be waiting round the corner. Heart in his mouth and a sick feeling in his chest, Harry walked slowly round the side of the building.

Two figures stood, tied together back to back with thick, cruel rope. There was a piece of sacking over their heads, but Harry recognised the robes of the figure facing him – it was Hermione. Relief soared through him as he pictured Ron tied behind her, unconscious perhaps, but the pair of them miraculously alive and breathing.

And then his eyes fell on the third figure.

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

_The grass is cool beneath her, and the sun is warm above. It is a nice day to die. If she had time, she would think of friends, of loves, of evenings in the common room and days by the lake. Of feasts, of winning, of laughs gone by. Of family, of parents, of life. But she sees the sky, and she smiles, somehow, because in the sky she is free. _

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

She lay, half concealed by an over grown bush, on the soft summer grass. Hair falling free around her head, eyes gazing unseeingly up at the forever blue sky where she had spent so many happy hours.

Katie Bell, just eighteen, Gryffindor, quidditch player, true and loyal friend. Dead.

**HarryTradesCardsHowBoring**

Harry felt like he was about to throw up. Blood still seeped from a wound along her hairline, but other than that she appeared unharmed.

A muffled gasp from Ginny reminded him he was not alone. Shaking himself out of his horror, at least for now, he turned round, concealing Katie as best he could.

"Katie's dead." he said shortly to the few who had followed him round. Fred swore, George looked as though he had been hit by a bludger, Neville turned the colour of parchment and Luna looked unerringly shocked. Not allowing them time to digest the information and begin to panic, cry or worse, Harry continued quickly.

"Luna, go find a teacher. Preferably McGonagall, best of all Dumbledore, but anyone will do. Fred, George, stop the others coming round here. They don't need to see this. Neville, see what you can do about freeing Hermione and Ron, and check they're not to badly hurt."

Silently, each hurried off the complete their designated task, leaving Harry and Ginny alone, standing watch over their fallen friend.

"I can't believe it…" began Ginny in a hoarse whisper, but Harry cut her off.

"Don't think about it. Not yet." he said harshly. "This isn't the end. We need our wits now more than anything."

Ginny opened her mouth, but whether it was to reprimand him for his cold words or question his last statement, Harry never found out. At that moment, Neville, who had just removed the sack from the heads of the two figures, let out a cry of shock.

Harry and Ginny span round, seeing for the first time Hermione's face. She was gagged, and there was a spectacular bruise blossoming on her face, but that wasn't what had made Neville cry out.

It was the fact that the figure tied behind her was brown haired and female; another Gryffindor seventh year, a friend of Katie's. Most definitely not Ron.

Harry stalked over and pulled the gag roughly away from Hermione's mouth. She gasped in the fresh air, almost choking in her desire to breathe.

"Ron?" demanded Harry brusquely, seemingly unaware of his friends suffering. "Where is he?"

Almost desperately, the teenager began to scan the surrounding area, skipping over Katie's body, looking for any trace of his friend, half expecting him to emerge from the nearby woods, pale and shaking but safe and alive.

The guttural cry from Hermione dashed his hopes.

"Gone." she moaned softly. "They took him. He's gone."

And Harry didn't need to look round again to know she spoke the truth.

Ron Weasley had vanished.

* * *

Mwahaha. Gotta love a cliffie. Hope you think I gave Katie an ok ending, for want of a better word. See you all next week, when the fate of our missing Weasley will (perhaps) be resolved… 


	44. In Which Plans are Laid

Ok. Feel free to kill me. I'm so sorry! All a bit hectic yesterday…not entirely sure why, but it was. Oh yes, and I had a chemistry test today, for which revision was needed. Meh.

Forever thanks to those who weren't late with their reviews…**Disneydork, ballerinadoll9, NamelessHeretic, dingohart, PHEONIX39, Nessa19, GinnyP0tter, lemonwedges4, DancingCavalier, FalseReflections, elphaba731, Isis the Sphinx, Dobby's Socks, TheRedBandit, Thokul, Long Lost Dream37, Jane – **Yes, I've noticed that. But it had to be her; what other seventh year does everyone care about so much? Thanks for the maths tip – thought I'd sorted that! Rather worrying for someone doing A-Level maths…, **LostHeart4** and** M.S.Memorial.**

Anyway, on we go…

* * *

The next few minutes passed in a strange blur. Neville had released Hermione and the girl she was tied too, and, while the latter was standing, crying and shaking, Hermione had sunk to the floor. She was perfectly still, her face bloodless, staring blankly at the grass as though it would sprout her boyfriend any minute now, if she just looked hard enough.

And then Dumbledore arrived, and everything seemed to click back into normal again. He was as grave as Harry had ever seen him, sombrely taking in the scene behind the shack. McGonagall and Snape had come with him; the former seemed unable to speak, while the latter had an ever so slight trace of shock and disgust on his face. It was the most human expression Harry had ever seen on it, and, had the occasion been different, he would have relished it.

"Minerva," said Dumbledore softly, "escort the pupils back to school. All students are to return to their common rooms at once, and a register is to be taken in thirty minutes. Severus, please help Miss Granger and Miss Knightly to the hospital wing."

"Sir," Harry broke in desperately, feeling Ginny tensing next to him, "Ron…"

"Will be dealt with once I know everyone else is safe."

"But…"

"Go with Professor McGonagall, Harry."

Harry glared, pushing the multitude of emotions rolling round inside him into the deepest scowl he could muster. Katie was dead, Ron was missing, and all the old codger would do was _stand there_ and _stare_ at him like he was three years old!

"Harry, if you and Miss Weasley do not leave voluntarily, than I shall have to force you."

Seeing Neville and Luna, who had returned with the teachers, already turning to go, and even Ginny hesitate at the idea of being forced to leave caused some sort of small explosion in the pit of his stomach. How could they?! Ron could be hurt, Ron could be dying…except Ron wasn't allowed to die, because he was always there…and then Ginny was tugging gently on his arm.

"Come." she whispered, so only he could hear. "If he stuns you, or binds you, you won't be released until it's all over. Come freely, and we can do something."

Unable to argue round the logic in that, Harry threw a final glare in the headmaster's direction, and followed his girlfriend.

HTCHB

An hour had passed since they returned to the castle, and what little patience Harry had left was fast wearing thin. McGonagall had escorted them to the Great Hall and left, leaving the vast majority of the student population of Hogwarts gathered in one room to compare rumours, question each other and concoct their own theories of exactly what had happened. No one yet seemed to know of Katie's death; it was, however, general knowledge that several students had been taken to the hospital wing. Younger years too had been bought into the Hall; Harry had a feeling that Dumbledore would be addressing them all at some point that night. But right now he didn't care, he just wanted to know what was going on, what was happening, where Ron was…

So intent on thinking dark thoughts about the Head, and watching the door behind the empty staff table, Harry didn't notice the ghostlike figure stumbling towards them until Jane's gasp alerted him to it's presence.

Hermione looked as though she had aged about twenty years. Even her hair seemed to be flat. The three first years had remained unusually silent since they had found their older friends, perhaps guessing from the expressions on their faces that prying would not be welcome, and so the whereabouts of Ron and Hermione had not been questioned.

But now…

"Oh 'Mione…" began Izzy, approaching the older girl.

She didn't react.

"Hermione?" ventured Charlie next.

"Has Dumbledore come back?" Her words were directed straight at Harry, as though none of the others were there. Harry shook his head, and silence fell once more.

Eventually, confusion and curiosity outweighed the sense to stay silent, and Jane, in a nervous whisper, asked the company at large, "Where's Ron?"

"Gone." said Ginny hoarsely. "We don't know."

Charlie opened his mouth to question her answer when a tall, silver haired figure appeared at the staff table. Silence fell around the hall, the student body turning to look at their Head.

"Today," began Dumbledore, sounding weary and ancient, "saw a terrible crime occur in the village of Hogsmeade. For the second time in just two years, a student has been torn from our midst."

The mutterings began, people looking left and right, checking for friends and siblings.

"Katie Bell was murdered earlier this evening by Death Eaters."

Shocked gasps, cries of horror, Izzy erupting into tears and throwing herself onto Jane…

A high-pitched, manic voice, echoing through the school and right into the souls of those gathered there.

"Hello Potty. Enjoying our little surprise?"

People were looking left and right, searching for the source of the voice. But it didn't seem to be originating from a person; instead, the very walls were ringing with it. Harry, however, didn't need to see a face to recognise the mocking tone.

"Bellatrix," he muttered, as she began to speak again.

"One friend is dead, little boy, and the other will soon follow if you do not do as we ask. Meet us at the main gates in one hour. Bring who you wish, and be prepared to fight. If you do not come, your friend shall die. If you come, we shall leave him to fend for himself in the battle. Tonight is the end, Harry Potter. You and your friends shall die, and the Dark Lord shall rise again! One hour, Potter."

The voice faded, and the ringing stopped. Silence. Terrible, infinite silence, as the whole world held its breath.

And let it out again.

Shrieks, crying, the thundering noise of a thousand legs pounding backwards and forwards…and then three deafening bangs, originating from the Staff table.

"I would ask you all to resume your seats and remain calm." said Dumbledore quietly. "If the staff would join me for a brief meeting? I leave our Head Boy and Girl in charge – send word with the ghosts if anyone begins to cause trouble. Harry, if you would join us?"

Acting on autopilot, Harry climbed to his feet and trailed after the sombre teachers, half registering Hermione and Ginny following behind him, but thinking little of it. They were there, of course. They were always there.

"We must evacuate the students." said Dumbledore simply the moment the last of the staff and the three students had filed into the same room Harry had stood in once before, on what had felt like the worst night of his life, after his name had come out of the goblet. He would give anything to go back to that moment.

"What of the matter I informed you of, Albus?" interrupted Snape, tight lipped and frowning.

"We can only hope that Draco's father informed him of what was to occur tonight, and suggested he get out of the way. For the time being, our main worry is the students still in the school."

Harry frowned, briefly wondering at the fact that Draco Malfoy too had not returned from Hogsmeade. But then the conversation continued, and he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

"But how? They must be nearby, the gates will be guarded, they will have undoubtedly blocked the floo…" Tiny Flitwick, worried but as strong as ever.

"And the passageways…between them, they must know them all…" added Hermione's arithmancy studies teacher.

"Not all." said Dumbledore quietly. "There is a passageway leading out of these grounds into Hogsmeade village. We send the students through it."

"Sir!" Harry, jerked out of whatever daze he had fallen into as the words and their implication entered his brain. "_He_ knows…he'll have told them…"

"We shall use the passageway." repeated Dumbledore firmly, ignoring the dark looks of incredulation on the faces of the three youngest present. "Minerva, Filius, Severus, Ponama? If you would escort your houses to the edge of the Whomping Willow. Severus, you go first and deal with the tree. Send the students through the passageway."

"You think there will be a fight?" asked Snape silkily, as though asking if the headmaster took sugar.

"Of course there will, Severus! They are evidently after Potter, and since I for one shall not let them have him while there is breath in my body, then there will be a fight!"

Harry started, suddenly feeling immensely proud. McGonagall; tight lipped, strict, stern McGonagall, was willing to fight for him, to put up her life for him…if she actually believed in him…for a moment, a split second, it was as though the sack of bricks he had been carrying around had been taken away.

"What of the students? Some will want to stay, to help." threw in Professor Sprout.

"Those who are over fifth year and wish to stay may. All those from the first four years are to leave the grounds."

"I'm going down to the gates." said Harry quickly, just in case anyone was thinking of doubting that fact.

Snape frowned. "Potter, think this through for a moment. This is evidently a trap. Do not fall into it by putting yourself right in the firing line and getting yourself killed."

Harry scowled. "If I'm not there, they'll kill Ron. He might be dead already, but if he's not, I won't be the reason he dies. And if there is a fight, which you all seem to think there will be, then I'm going to be there."

"Us too." Added Ginny quickly, lest they be forgotten.

"Plan of action, Professor?" asked Hagrid gruffly, from where he loomed at the back.

"Once the students have been taken to safety, Filius, begin reinforcing and adding to the protective charms around the walls. Severus, Ponama, anything you think appropriate. Minerva, if you please. Madam Hooch, if you would alert the ghosts and the house elves to the plan, they may stay or go as they wish. And then go to Poppy, tell her to be prepared. The rest of you, please help escort those who are leaving through the passageway, and then return to the Hall."

And suddenly, the meeting was adjourned. One by one, the teachers filed back into the Hall, and the three students slipped in after them, trying not to notice the hundreds of eyes following their every step.

"You are all to be evacuated. Your heads of houses will lead you to a passageway out of the school, from which you should emerge in the Shrieking Shack. Those of you who can, apparate onwards from there. The rest are to head for the Three Broomsticks, and make use of the Floo network there."

"Is there going to be a fight?" called a tall, slim Ravenclaw fourth year nervously.

Dumbledore bowed his head. "We can hope not, but with Death Eaters confident enough to approach our gates, I think so."

"What if we want to stay?" asked Ernie Macmillan, sounding determined.

"Those in fifth year and above may stay if they wish to, but everyone else is to leave. Understand this, however; this is not a classroom test, or club simulation. There are people waiting at our gates who will torture and kill you without second thought. Please consider very carefully before deciding to remain. Severus, if you would?"

"Slytherins, follow me."

The only sound was that of the benches being pushed back, as the Slytherins rose to their feet and silently followed their head of house out of the room. Flitwick led the Ravenclaws next, but here a good number remained behind. Luna, of course, and Cho and many of her friends, and others too, some from the DA, some Harry recognised only as people he passed in the corridors. Even more Hufflepuffs chose to stay, and Harry suddenly remembered the Hats words: "where they are just and loyal…unafraind of toil…". Tonight, Hufflepuffs were proving their worth once and for all.

And finally the Gryffindors. McGonagall prowled the table, plucking the younger years from amongst those remaining – Dennis Creevy had to be physically removed from his brother's side. So busy was Harry in watching the faces of those staying and leaving, he did not notice the little figure stumbling towards him until she was right in front of him.

"I can't stay." said Jane resignedly, looking up at her brothers face. He crouched down slightly, so his eyes were level with hers.

"No." Harry agreed. "You can't. Go with Izzy and Charlie, get to the Three Broomsticks and go home to Mum and Dad and Jack and Gemma and everyone. Tell them…say…"

He found himself unable to word what he meant, but Jane seemed to understand. She suddenly launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and latching on.

"I'll see you later." she whispered fiercely in his ear. "And Ron. And Ginny and Hermione and Luna and Neville and _everyone_. Be careful. Love you."

And then she was gone, and the bricks were back.

HTCHB

Darkness had fallen. Fifty-five minutes had passed since the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange had echoed through the walls of Hogwarts, and now the grounds were filled with people. They surrounded the main gates, fanning outwards into the dark, and at the front, directly before the closed gates, stood three teenagers. They were slightly forward of the main mass of people, alone in the middle of the semicircle of teachers who fronted the hastily thrown together army.

Beside him, Harry could see Hermione, her eyes glued on her watch as she counted down the final minutes. No one spoke; there was no noise other than the occasional rustle of branches and cloaks. Armed with wands, potions, the odd venomous plant and, on Hagrids part, a pink umbrella and a cross bow, the people of Hogwarts watched and waited.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Gasps, shock, surprise and horror as, exactly on the hour, the walls and gateway in front of them seemed to melt away. They were still there – if you tilted your head and half closed your eyes, it was possible to see the occasional shimmer of the many spells that held the walls in place – but to the naked eye it was almost impossible to pick them out. What was far easier to see was the mass of black cloaks and white masks that waited on the other side.

HTCHB

What grabbed Harrys attention, however, was the figure suspended in midair above the horde of Death Eaters. Apparently unconscious, bound and sporting a magnificent shook of red hair…Ron Weasley. Next to him, Harry felt Hermione bristle, drawing herself to her full height, hair frizzing with anger. Her eyes were locked on the slowly revolving figure, as though sheer will alone could restore him to her side. Sensing she was about to do something that would probably involve attempting to hex every Death Eater within reach, Harry put a restraining hand on her elbow. Now was not the moment.

The gesture, however, did not go unnoticed.

"Clever move, Potter." came the shrieking voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. She appeared to have been elected leader of this particular jaunt, and was flaunting the fact to the best of her ability. "Wouldn't want someone's hand to accidentally…slip…whoops…"

The Ron-figure bobbed in midair several times, before slowing to a steady hover once more.

"Let him go!" shouted Hermione suddenly, making Harry jump slightly. Her voice wasn't strained or upset – pure anger radiated from it with a force that could have flattened small children.

Bellatrix laughed.

"Missing your boyfriend, mudblood? Don't worry, you'll be together soon. All it needs is for Potter to come through the gates, and we send the blood traitor over."

"And if he refuses to come?" asked Ginny, her voice quiet and yet still travelling easily.

"Then your mother will have at least one child to bury before the night is out."

"What's the point, though?" called Harry, drawing attention back to him. Keep them talking, keep them occupied, give the others and himself time to think of a plan…

"The point? They say you are moderately intelligent! The point, Potter, is your death, and the return of the Dark Lord!"

"You think killing me will bring him back from whatever hidey hole he's run off to this time? Or do you forget? He needed me alive, last time. I hardly think he'd be happy if one of you killed me before he could do it himself."

Bellatrix laughed, high and manic.

"Oh don't worry, Potter, the Dark Lord would never allow anyone lesser than himself to have the honour of disposing of you. Tonight you shall meet, and tonight you shall die."

"Unless your Master has managed to return to his body in the past nine months, I really can't see how that's going to happen." said Harry, trying to sound off hand, but his attention now caught by the mad woman.

"This time, he doesn't need his own body to kill you, Potter."

And then, rising from somewhere in the crowd, a second voice, vaguely recognisable and yet chilling in it's familiarity.

"I had always hoped to kill you face to face, Potter, but it seems it is not to be. Second best, in this case, will have to do."

The crowd of Death Eaters parted at some invisible order, and a figure moved through the parting. Tall, slim, sharply defined features picked out in the wand light, blond hair glistening ever so slightly,

Draco Malfoy, eyes gleaming a blood red, wand aloft supporting the bobbing shape of Ron Weasley, and the silky voice of Lord Voldemort snaking out of his mouth.

* * *

Hahaha! I love being an author. I can update late AND leave you with two cliffies in a row. Worship me! Mwahaha!

Honestly, though…make a loner feel loved…reviews are just a click away…


	45. In Which a Friend is Lost

Time for apologies once more. This is atrociously short. For some reason, my Uni application is taking years of my life to complete, and so I've had maybe two hours to write this week. Throw in my total inability to write action, and…well, you shall see. If this had been the emotional aftermath I could have churned out pages. Or even the next chapter, which, if it goes to plan, should be when most things come to a head. But now. Had to be the tricky "beginning the battle" bit.

Sorry.

Special apoligises to my fabulous reviewers from last week: **Isis the Sphinx, RemusTonksandTeddyLupin – **Wow, you multicultural person you! Glad you're enjoying it!,** lemonwedges4, GinnyP0tter, Mrs. Random, Emmy-loo, disneydork, elphaba731, NamelessHeretic, Nessa19, Lyndalou, Long Lost Dream37, Mei1105, dingohart, GothycCoalChambr, Dobby's Socks, TheRedBandit, haphazard1, cheetalady95, ballerinadoll9, Nice Huntress **and** PHEONIX39.**

This weeks HTCHB award goes to… **Dobby's Socks**, with **H**elp**T**o**C**atch**H**azardous**B**utterflies.

* * *

"Like it, Potter? I tried using your friend – fitting, I thought – but he was not willing. Then in turned out Lucius had drawn his son away, out of some form of family loyalty, I suppose, and there was a perfect choice. Young, fit, willing enough. And with such a wonderful array of memories about you."

It took Harry several moments to shake himself out of the horror induced by hearing Voldemort's voice come out of the mouth of a sixteen year old boy – Malfoy or not, no way he deserved that. Remembering the state Quirrell had been left in, Harry shuddered.

Malfoy's face twisted into a smirk, but even that feature, usually so familiar on him, looked out of place.

"Have you not worked it out, Potter? Why I chose to come now, instead of waiting to face you once more, at my full strength, in my own body?"

Harry automatically began to nod his head, stopping with a jerk when he realised what he was doing. Voldemort, however, seemed to accept that, for he continued with great relish.

"The Prophesy, Potter. You, I have no doubt, will have heard it by now, and, thanks to a surprising amount of forethought on the behalf of one of my faithful Death Eaters, so have I. You may have smashed it, but in the midst of the battle and confusion, no one noticed my faithful helper listening to it as it faded away…and later, he was able to relate to me, not only the first fragments, but the entire thing. In my disembodied state, I considered this for many months, while my Death Eaters continued to wreck their havoc upon your world. And the conclusion…so obvious, I nearly cursed myself for not realising it sooner. 'Neither can live while the other survives.' Familiar? And so obvious! Only one of us is able to live at any one time! And so, while you remain locked within your body, it is nearly impossible for me to regain my own. And when I do, it is in a severely weakened state, from which I can be ripped at any moment without too much strain on your behalf. So tonight, I shall kill you, and restore myself once more to glory!"

Cheers and cries from the crowds of Death Eaters began at the last statement, sparks jumping into the air, worryingly close to the suspended Ron.

"I'm here." said Harry, surprising himself with how calm he sounded. "Send Ron back."

Voldemort seemed to falter, and for a moment Harry was sure he saw a flash of blue in the redness of his eyes. The wand he grasped twitched in his hand, and the shape of Ron Weasley soared over the wall, somehow passing easily through the protective charms.

"Enjoy your friend, Potter." Came Voldemort's voice, cruel and gloating. "Perhaps be grateful he shall be spared seeing the slaughter that is about to take place. You should not have bought so many with you – had you come alone, only one friend and yourself would have died. Instead, you bring many to meet their deaths on your behalf."

"He does not force us!" cried McGonagall, voice raising over the crowd. "We come to protect our homes, our families and our lives!"

Harry, however, only half heard her. His eyes were fixed on the shape of Ron, which had come to a rest against one of the boulders that lined the wide drive. He could just make out his friends familiar freckled face, pale in the wand light, still as the rock on which he rested. Still, still face…still, still chest…

"No…"

Cold, terrible smirk on a face that shouldn't be baring that sort of evil.

"Yes, Potter. A present, from an old friend of the family, so to speak. Do you like Wormtail's handiwork? I planned to use your friend as a host, but when he proved unwilling for that function…well, no need to keep him. And he had served his purpose. Wormtail here was only too keen to perform the deed."

A small, slightly stooped figure to Voldemort-Malfoy's right trembled slightly, but for once Harry ignored the chance to direct his hatred towards it. Some invisible force seemed to have gripped at his chest and throat, suffocating him from the inside out, and all he could see was Rons face, eyes closed, asleep at a glance, but so horribly not at a longer look…

It wasn't allowed! Ron…dirty-nosed, oblivious, stubborn Ron…who had knocked out trolls and finally kissed Hermione and made some of the best quidditch saves Hogwarts had seen in ages and always been there, moaning and grumbling and arguing half the time but always, always being there when they came out the other side to make a joke and make it all seem better, if only for a few minutes…

Ron, who at the age of eleven had befriended him and helped him explore this whole new world, not because he was the Boy Who Lived, but just because he was _Harry_…

Ron…killed by the pet he had once been so upset to lose.

Hermione was shaking, making no sound, no tears no, just shaking with anger and grief and disgust…and Ginny was shouting insults and jeers…and Voldemort was laughing, high and manic, because it was just Voldemort now, because Malfoy, no matter what else he did, would never have killed Ron…

Suddenly, the hordes that surrounded Voldemort began to surge forward, heading towards the invisible walls at speed. Several seemed to get carried away, for they ran straight into them, only to bounce back off, but the rest set too, firing spell upon spell at the mighty walls, and in the end they would fall, Harry could tell, because nothing to stand up to such an assault of Dark Magic.

Dumbledore appeared to have realised this too, for his voice rose above the cries and shouts of the crowds.

"Back! Away from the walls! Gather behind the teachers on the lawns!"

And the fighters of Hogwarts turned and ran, rearranging themselves half way up the sloping lawns, still with a clear view of the main gates. Harry nearly didn't move, desperate to try and find Voldemort in the milling crowd on the other side of the wall, reluctant to leave his friends body to the mercy of the stampede he knew would come soon…but then Hermione had one hand, and Ginny the other, and Hermione's wand was out, lifting Ron up and taking him with them…

The final time the four friends would cross the grounds of Hogwarts together, a small wry voice in the depths of Harry's mind commented, over ridden by the continuous roar that was originating somewhere in his chest and echoing through his body.

They will pay.

**HelpToCatchHazardousButterflies**

The defenders of Hogwarts did not waste the time spent waiting for the Death Eaters to breach the walls. Filtwick and McGonagall were working in tandem, she transfiguring rocks and plants and pretty much anything that wasn't human into an odd assortment of teapots, ordinary broomsticks and what looked like bludgers, while he charmed them to breathe fire, beat people round the head and generally act as bludgers acted. Madam Pomfrey and Neville were fast disappearing behind a barricade of plants, several waving green stems in the air, while Madam Hooch had taken most of the quidditch teams and several other fliers into the school and up the towers, ready to form an aerial assault. Dumbledore appeared to be in some form of meditation, standing with his eyes shut and muttering every now and again under his breathe – Harry half wondered if the Head was talking to the school its self.

The remaining students were mainly silent, a few talking quietly amongst themselves, or reciting spells under their breath. Hermione and Ginny were…Hermione and Ginny were moving away from the crowd, round the side of the castle.

"What are you doing?" hissed Harry quietly, catching up with the pair and trying to ignore the shape of his friend's body floating above them.

"We need to put…to put Ron somewhere safe. The willow will protect him 'til it's over." Ginny explained curtly as they neared the thrashing branches. She used a long stick to poke the knot, and Hermione gently lowered Ron's body to the floor, nestled amongst the roots, the opposite side of the tree to the entrance the passage. Harry, after a moments thought, used his own wand to lift leaves from the surrounding area and spread them over his friends form. A moment of silent contemplation, and it was time to return.

**HelpToCatchHazardousButterflies**

Later, no one could be sure how long it took for the walls of Hogwarts to finally fall. Some accounts said minutes, some resolutely claimed hours. But in the end, on that night, it did not matter, for fall they did, and so came the Death Eaters.

The best advantage the defenders of Hogwarts could hope for was the high ground – the slight slope meant they gained a clear view, and a slightly better aim. What had started as one large crowd gathered before the castle walls quickly broke down into many small groups, darting between the oncoming Death Eaters, drawing them into duels and fights of their own. The charmed teapots appeared to be almost enjoying themselves, if that could be said of a teapot, for they flew after the mask-wearing men like swarms of bees.

Harry had lost both Hermione and Ginny soon after the walls fell, Hermione racing off after Susan Bones, who was being cornered by two Death Eaters, Ginny splitting off soon afterwards. He ducked through the melee, avoiding stray spells and curses, looking for one person, and one person only. Not even Wormtail was to receive his wrath tonight.

**HelpToCatchHazardousButterflies**

Ginny was out of breath, aching and running on the adrenaline high she normally associated with quidditch matches. She had seen Hermione rush off to help Susan, and lost Harry as they moved through a crowd of Ravenclaws. She had already passed Neville and Luna, back to back, firing spells left, right and centre while Luna trilled off a running commentary on Nargles, Hodgepicks and Jumping Ganderfiles. In the small portion of her brain that wasn't obsessed with _run_ and _duck_ and _fight_, Ginny found herself wondering if maybe there was more to Luna's ramblings than they had always thought – they certainly seemed to be helping Neville.

As she moved through the battle, another small, traitorous thought began to wiggle its way into her brain.

_We can't win._

And the more she looked, the more she had to admit it was true. The defenders of Hogwarts were putting up a brave fight, but the fact remained that they were outnumbered, and, in many cases, outmatched by the Death Eaters. In most cases the duels were two students on one Death Eater, leaving far too many available to try their luck when someone's attention was elsewhere. For the first time, the horrible idea of loosing entered Ginny's mind, to be quickly shaken away. Loosing meant Harry dying, and that _would not happen. _She had already lost a brother tonight.

Her movements had moved her back along the path she, Hermione and Harry had travelled barely half an hour – could it only be that long? – earlier, and in the gloom she could just make out the thrashing of the Whomping Willow. There was a surprisingly large crowd around it, considering the likelihood of loosing a limb if you got too near, but Ginny suspected that the younger fighters were attempting to herd their opponents into the trees branches.

A stunner suddenly appear from her left, forcing her to quickly duck, and then spin round to face the origin. A slipped mask revealed McNair, one eye still patched from his encounter with Neville's want the previous summer.

He snarled, and sent another spell, and the cycle began all over again. Locked in a duel, ducking and weaving, sweat in her eyes and the dull roar of battle in her ears. Glimpses of the other duels going on around her as she whirled to avoid what looked horribly like the killing curse; Terry Boot and Hannah Abbot chasing after a huge dark Death Eater, Colin Creevey facing two all by himself, Fred and George racing towards her, murder on their faces and wands out, pointing straight at McNair…

Wait.

Fred and George?

"Evening sis!" yelled Fred as they neared. "Need a hand?"

They didn't wait for an answer. A wave of two wands, and the unsuspecting Death Eater suddenly found himself body-bound and tightly tied up.

For a moment, in the feeling of safety that her brother's presence always produced, Ginny allowed herself a proper look around. The fight was spread across the lawns, occasionally lit by flashes of spells and curses. Over head swooped the mounted students, raining spells down from above, while several of McGonagall's teapots appeared to have turned into Catherine Wheels, spinning at high speed and spurting flames in every direction. There was no sign of Harry or Hermione.

"How…" Attempting to catch her breath, and ignore the niggling voices at the back of her mind, Ginny turned back to her brothers, who were already beginning to move away into the fight.

"Tunnel." called George with a jerk of his head. "We were in the bar when a whole load of kids poured in. Told us what was happening. Most the DA were still about, so we came at once, and then some of the kids went to the Ministry and home, and word spread pretty quick."

Ginny suddenly understood the large crowd around the willow. Thank Merlin Harry had covered Ron's body…that was not a discovery that was needed yet. Studying the faces of the fighters as they were lit by the passing wand light, began to make out familiar faces. Remus and Tonks working in tandem, Kingsley Shacklebolt and several other aurors, Bill, Lily and James…

And Ginny knew. Tonight it would end, one way or another. Tonight, tomorrow would be decided once and for all.

* * *

And lo, my amazing inability to write good action is revealed once more. I do apologise – I shall work on it for next week! 


	46. In Which the Pages of the Past are Turne

Excuse time, yet again. This time, the delay was for you. All of you. Yes, even _you_. This is a very…different…chapter, and while it made sense to me, as I knew what was going on, I wasn't sure how it would appear to the fresh reader. So I desperately needed my sister to turn her critical eye to it, but she had a whole load of science homework last night. She promises me that she understands it, so I can only wish the rest of you good luck!

Biggest apologies go to the wonderful reviewers of last week:** lemonwedges4, NamelessHeretic, Isis the Sphinx, ballerinadoll9, GinnyP0tter, haphazard1, dingohart, 2smrt4u, elphaba731, Emmy-loo, ef – no, thus far, it would seem they can't!, Nessa19, Meh, Mei1105, Dobby's Socks, hpfananita, Nooka, PSTurner, disneydork, TheRedBandit, Long Lost Dream37 **and **LostHeart4.**

I'm sensing I'm none to popular over the Ron thing. Good job an ocean separates me from most of you, or I'd be fearing for my life!

And this weeks HTCHB award goes to… Rose's Thorne, with **H**ungry**T**una**C**hase**H**arried**B**rine.

* * *

It is dark, and he's not entirely sure where he is. He feels like he's suspended in air, neither too hot nor too cold, perfectly comfortable, and he is just beginning to drift off – it is quiet here, after all, and for some reason he feels amazingly tired – when his behind makes an uncomfortable connection with something hard and cold.

And suddenly, he's sprawled flat out on a stone floor, in what appears to be a kitchen. Except it's definitely not a kitchen he's ever been in before – it has a distinctly muggle look about it, with the strange contraptions and the thin, horse-faced girl in a threadbare apron. He jumps to his feet, ready to explain his presence somehow, but the girl doesn't seem to notice. She's crouched in front of a cupboard, speaking softly to something inside it, and he realizes with a start that, while she appears to be about his age, even when she is crouching he barely reaches the top of her head.

He turns slowly, and looks around once more. There is a large, well-scrubbed wooden table in the middle of the room, and, approaching it, his eyes can only just see over the edge.

It appears he is about six years old.

It's a strange sensation – at least ten years more worth of memories trapped inside his tiny childish brain. He wonders for a moment if the little bits of matter up there will explode from the intensity of it…and then he wonders why he is six again.

Drifting back towards the girl, he absentmindedly waves one hand in front of her face. She doesn't flinch, but instead continues to talk quietly through the tightly shut wooden door.

"Come on, Tommy…just open the door. S'just me and you in here, now. I'm sure they didn't mean it. I'll ask Mary to get it back off Bobby for you later, when everyone's a bit quieter. Now come out, and help me make cakes for Visit Day tomorrow."

Her voice is soft and soothing, and for a moment he wishes he could be the little boy inside the cupboard, just so he could come out and be comforted by the girl. There is a silence, and then the door begins to creak open.

A little boy, of about five, crawls out, and he is horrified. Bony face, wide eyes, floppy hair falling into his eyes, shabby gray clothes, tearstained cheeks. Never has he seen such a pathetic sight, and he has known house elves.

The girl has gathered Tommy in her arms, rocking him and humming to him quietly. He is snuffling into her shoulder, and for a moment he feels disgust – such a scene! But then the disgust softens to pity, for here is a child who is so pathetic, looking so lost and lonely…no mother, it would seem, to hug him and tell him he is wonderful, no father to call him a young man, and conjure fancy toys for him to play with.

Just a skinny servant girl, who scoops him up and plonks him onto one of the ancient chairs, so he can reach the tabletop. Standing on the chair, "Tommy" and the girl are almost the same height, and so he scrambles up after them, standing on a chair at the opposite end of the table and watching them, feeling suddenly quite lonely himself as they laugh and chatter and mix stuff together, somehow covering themselves in everything at the same time, Bobby, and whatever he had taken, forgotten.

**HungryTunaChaseHarriedBrine**

_Air is whipping round him, catching his hair and somehow blurring his vision. His head hurts…no, aches, the sheer agony of it making him want to curl up somewhere and die, just to make it stop…but somehow he can't…somehow he can't even raise his hand, or turn his head, or move…_

_He is trapped, and for the first time in his life, he is truly terrified._

_A boy is speaking, and it's a voice he recognises. For a moment, the swirling winds clear, and he can see the black cloaks and white masks spread out around him, and the motley bunch before him, and the wand in his hand, connected to the body…body?_

_The voice wants the body back, he realises, and the voice gains a name, and so does the body…Weasley. Ron Weasley's body is hanging above him, and somehow he knows the redhead is dead, although his friend, pleading for his return, doesn't seem to. _

_He moves the wand, returning the dead boy to his friends. He wants to open his mouth, to tell them, to say he was sorry, to say he was that he didn't know what had happened, but he didn't want it to…_

_But the winds are back, and his jaws are moving, but he isn't saying the words that are coming out, he knows, because he doesn't know what the words are, and he is falling over and over and over…_

**HungryTunaChaseHarriedBrine**

It is raining, this time, but judging by the gravestone he is lying besides, he is still the size of a six year old.

Gravestone?

He scrambles to his feet and looks around. It is most definitely a graveyard – he can see the usual yew trees in the distance, with rows of grey stone before them. At first, all seems deserted, until his ears pick up the soft crunch of gravel, alerting him to the approach of someone.

It is the boy from the cupboard – Tommy. His dark hair is shorter than last time, and he's taller – several years have passed since the scene in the kitchen. The figure stops two rows away, and so he moves towards it, intrigued as to why the child is out, alone, in a graveyard in the rain.

The answer is carved into the cold grey stone.

_Sarah Dawkins  
4th January 1921 – 8th October 1940  
"Suffer the little children, who come unto me"_

He remembered the skinny, smiling girl who had hugged a little boy's tears away, and suddenly understands the lone child's presence.

"'Bought you a biscuit." the child is mumbling, eyes fixed on the gravestone. "Not as nice as yours, though. But it's your birthday, and I didn't have no flowers. Mrs Baker says I should bring flowers. But you liked roses, and there's none of them 'bout at the moment."

It is true – in this bleak land, not even grass seems to be bothered about growing. Grey day, grey rain…beyond the yew trees, he can make out a row of houses, looking cold and deserted even from where he stands.

"I'm eleven, now, Sarah." the little boy says. "Eleven and three days. D'you remember when I was seven, and we had a party, you and me? I think I do. We had another Visit Day yesterday. Only four people came – Mrs Baker says the war means folk can't have their own children, never mind any others. An' I'm getting in the way now, I'm too old, no one wants me now. They took Millie Saunders yesterday, 'cause she's small and blonde and only three. No one wants me, 'cept you, and you had to go and get yourself blown up, so I'm all on me own and _it's not fair!"_

The grave seems completely unruffled by this proclamation, and the suddenly distraught boy turns angry.

"You went out and you never came back, and you promised you would! You was going to show me how to make a bird with paper, and you never came back! You're gone, and you'll never ever come back! And now I'm just me with nothin' else! And it's your fault!"

Red faced with anger and tears, the little boy throws the biscuit he treasured so carefully on the walk here against the stone, where it breaks and crumbles.

"I hate you!" he shouts, and hate fills his voice, sounding wrong in someone so young, and the boy is running, away, away, far away from the cold stone that shouldn't be the only memory of a girl who had so loved to laugh.

**HungryTunaChaseHarriedBrine**

_Agony again, and he realises it is that which blinds him. People are shouting around him, crying and hurting, and all he does is stand there, because his limbs are not working again. _

_Lights are flickering, somewhere beyond the pain, and he knows that if he opens his eyes he will see it…pain and confusion and anger, like the terrible dark anger of a little boy who has nobody to love him…_

_And then he is falling again._

**HungryTunaChaseHarriedBrine**

It is lucky he appears not to be solid in this strange age he keeps returning to, for this time he lands in a place he knows very well. Diagon Alley, slightly old fashioned, but still familiar, and so it is the best thing he has seen since this strange period began. But, still the size of a six year old, not the safest – he begins to move, only to be walked through by a tall witch towing her small child behind her. By now, he is beginning to guess what to expect, and so he looks around for the familiar figure.

Sure enough, Tommy is not far away, looking out of place in ragged muggle clothes, apparently trying desperately not to look too amazed by what he is seeing. He is alone again, letter in hand, walking slowly up the street and studying each shop intently before either passing by or entering.

Books…cauldron…potion kit…it is the well-trodden route of too many a first year for Tommy to look particularly out of place. Following and watching, he is glad, for, somehow, he feels that, if the little boy is noticed, something will go wrong.

It happens in the robe shop. Not Madam Malkins – by now, he has realised wherever he is, it is in the past, so he tries not to let this surprise him too much. But it is run by a kindly looking woman, who smiles at the lone child, and tries to help him onto the stool, even after he scowls at her and scrambles up by himself.

There is another boy in there, sandy haired and smiling.

"Hello!" he says excitedly, as the robe-woman begins to measure and pin. "Hogwarts?"

Tommy nods once, not looking at the other child.

"I'm awfully excited." the boy says, unnecessarily. "My mum and dad are in the bookshop, and then we're going for an ice cream. There's a shop up by the bookstore that does _amazing_ ice cream. Where're your parents?"

"Dead." says Tommy shortly, and the bouncing boy deflates.

"Oh my. I am sorry. Do you remember them?"

"No."

"That must be horrid. Who are you here with, then?"

"No one."

And he wants to interrupt, to tell Tommy he is wrong, he does have someone here with him, even if he doesn't know it, because this trip is big and important, and no one should have to do it alone, and have no one to remember it with afterwards.

"I say. Why don't you come and have ice cream with us? Mum and Dad won't mind."

But Tommy, who had stopped as they passed the ice cream shop and gazed at it wistfully for several minutes, shakes his head.

"No. I have to go soon."

"Well, if you're sure. Maybe we can sit together on the train? My name's Freddie, Freddie Macmillan. What house do you want to be in? Oh, but of course, you wouldn't know…there's four houses at Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. I'll be Hufflepuff, I bet, all my family have been. They're all amazing though. 'Cept Slytherin. Me dad says they're a bad lot. I reckon I'd leave if I got put in there."

Tommy says nothing, and the robe-woman sends the other boy on his way a few minutes later.

It is only as they are leaving, Tommy walking out the door straight-backed, resolutely not looking at the ice cream shop, where the sandy-haired boy is chattering away to his parents, that he notices the lone-child's lips moving soundlessly, and only by concentrating hard can he make out the word, repeated over and over.

_Slytherin_.

**HungryTunaChaseHarriedBrine**

_Agony and darkness are back. Still the shouting, still the crying, but this time there is a voice rising above the others. It is familiar, although he cannot place it, for it is cloaked in anger and pain and the suffering of one who has lost too much. A face swims before his closed eyes, but he cannot name it, however much he wants to. Needs to. If he can name it, he can say sorry, apologise for whatever his body has been doing while he's been in the past, because he knows it can't have been good._

_But just as the name comes to his lips, just as he opens his mouth to speak…falling._

**HungryTunaChaseHarriedBrine**

He does not land this time. He is floating, drifting, watching flickers of scenes as they pass below. Tommy on the train, ignoring the waving Freddie Macmillan, sitting alone and poking flies…Sorting, a smug smirk as he walks to the green table…working, working _hard, _because here is something he is good at, something he can do that no one in the orphanage could, something that makes _him _the special one…back to the orphanage for the summer, stared at and muttered about, but it doesn't matter, because he is special, he is _better_…returning to school, and, letting his eyes be caught by a pretty dark haired girl who answers to Sarah and smiles at everyone, even at him…all through school, making contacts, acquaintances, never friends, because he knows Tommy only ever had one friend, and no one else is allowed that most prestigious of titles…and finally, as he watches the child who had hidden in a cupboard, and helped a servant girl make cake dough, turn sixteen, he realises what the fate of Tommy Riddle is to be.

But still he watches. Not an entire life, of course, but moments of it – perhaps moments that stand out in the owners brain most of all. Finding the Chamber, arresting Hagrid, leaving Hogwarts, a place that was almost home. Plotting and planning, and, soon, maiming and killing. A triumphant smirk over the still bodies of a sandy haired youth of about twenty and his pretty dark haired new wife, her stomach slightly swollen, the babe it contained dead with it's parents. She stopped smiling at him sometime in fourth year, when she saw what he was becoming, and so she shall not smile at anyone again.

Other deaths, some more clear than others, and it is strange to be watching this dark time in history from the point of view of the person who made it so. He sees his parents, momentarily, younger and driven by the same passion and desire as the others that surround the boy who was once called Tommy…

And then it is dark again, and he is floating above the adult Tommy became as he strides down a country lane. Watches as he breaks down a neatly painted wooden door, as he throws aside the man that rushes towards him like a rag doll. Watches as he kills another young woman, trying to protect her child. Watches as he tries to kill the child. Watches as he fails.

The darkness that comes with defeat is close and claustrophobic. Agony again, throbbing through the limbs he no longer has. Anger and hatred, and, although the being Tommy became would never admit it, loneliness and fear. The longing for a door to open, and a smiling girl who smells of flour and ginger to be waiting for him on the other side.

And then…then the strangest sensation of being in two places at once _at exactly the same time. _He is drifting across a place he recognises well; the grounds of Hogwarts; but the scene below him does not match up with his memory. Death Eaters, for he somehow knows that is what they are, are tearing the school apart, chasing the students, harming the teachers, ready to maim and kill all who get in their way. And, slightly apart from the main battle, two figures facing each other, wands firmly in hand. He swoops down to get a closer look, momentarily smiling at the thought of how odd it would look if anyone could see him – a small child of five or six, drifting above the bloodiest battle Hogwarts had seen for many years.

He knows both the figures, he realises, as he gets closer. One is the child who, moments ago for himself, years ago for the boy, witnessed the deaths of his parents. And the other is himself. But, at the same time, not himself. The eyes that shine from the sockets are not his eyes, the smirk is not his own, the words belong to another's mind.

The creature that a lost little boy became laughs through a mouth that is not his own, and Draco Malfoy stops fearing him. Repulsion, yes, there will always be that towards a man that wreaked so many lives, but hatred…no. How can he hate, when he has seen this child, who lost the only person he loved, and so could never love again? Lost and lonely, but taught early on never to let unsureness show…no wonder he "fell down the wrong path", as it were.

Poor Tommy Riddle, with no mother to hug him, no father to tell him how proud he is.

And as he thinks, he is falling again, down and down, back into a mind and a body that should be his own. This time, it will remain his. There is too much to be said; explanations to those who have lost their best friend, no matter how much he dislikes them.

And forgiveness. To be granted to a creature who gave up on love standing by a gravestone at the age of eleven.

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There we have; Voldemort, this is your life. As seen by Draco Malfoy. Anyone confused, let me know, and I'll try and clear things up.

See you all next week! Review!


	47. In Which Things End

Hola! On time, as promised! This was meant to be The Chapter, where pretty much all is revealed. Turned out, it's not. But there's some other stuff going on.

Glad so many of you seemed to enjoy "Tommy" and his life last chapter. A couple of people seemd disturbed by the idea of feeling sorry for Voldemort and/or Malfoy, but hopefully I cleared that up for you…basically, I wanted to show how he wasn't born bad, and, as Dumbledore would say, it is our experiences that make us what we end up. As for Malfoy…this is a him before he tried to kill Dumbledore, before he nearly killed Ron and Katie, before he became a Death Eater (don't think he's taken Voldemort's mind willingly), and I have never believed him to be truly bad anyway.

Those who made me feel truly loved with their reviews last week were **Disneydork, LostHeart4, ballerinadoll9, Long Lost Dream37, elphaba731, Nessa19, NamelessHeretic, Entrancing, Nooka, helbaffy, grimlock78, lemonwedges4, mervoparkite, Isis the Sphinx, Bethy Ann, dingohart **and** forbidden.light.**

Annnd…this weeks HTCHB award goes to… **PHEONIX39** and assorted babysitees, with **H**edwig**T**hinks**C**razy**H**arry**B**ites.

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The smirk was back, goading him, stretched and contorted by the stark wand light. Harry clutched his wand so tightly his knuckles had turned white – if he were to die, he was pretty sure his wand would go with him to the grave, for there was no way anyone would be able to pries it from his grip. Behind them, the battle still raged, but here, slightly apart in both distance and mind, a pair stood without moving.

It was surprisingly easy to ignore the fact that cold red eyes were staring out of a face they didn't belong to, Harry found. Acid words, taunts about his parents, about Sirius, about Ron, that made his blood boil, made him want to lash out, to hurt, to kill...

It would end here. Both of them knew it. No spells had been fired yet – Voldemort had been too keen to talk, to illustrate the hopelessness of fighting against him, to paint destructive pictures of a world under his rule.

"Because, Potter, in the end, it comes down to power. I am powerful, and you are weak, and so I must always win! Those friends who survive this battle will die by my hand, and your family will be eradicated once and for all! Wormtail was due to make a start last November, but he was disturbed, as you no doubt know, before he could complete his task. He has proven a surprisingly useful find, none the less – more loyal to me than he ever was to your dirty blooded family."

The jab at his parents passed unnoticed – it was probably the nicest thing Voldemort had uttered since the pair had found each other. Another statement, however, was niggling in the front of Harry's mind.

_Wormtail was disturbed._

_Except he hadn't been disturbed, from what Charlie had told them. The arrival of an unprepared first year can hardly be counted as disturbance._

Shaking his head, Harry pushed the idea to the back of his mind. He couldn't be distracted now! If he lived, then that idea could be looked at. First, there was the slightly more pressing task of living in the first place.

Except Voldemort seemed distracted now, too. He had stopped talking, and, for some reason, kept glancing upwards. His eyes were flickering, red to grey to red again, and the smirk that had been playing about his face ever since Harry had realised Ron's fate had disappeared.

He had, for whatever reason, taken his eyes of Harry. A grave mistake, in the end.

Years of quidditch training, of speeches from Oliver about _ceasing the moment_ and _making the most of every opportunity _took a hold of his conscious, and Harry raised his wand. For a moment, Dumbledore's words of the previous January echoed in his mind.

"_We must give him a bit of a soul."_

"_And how do we do that?"_

But it was too late. He didn't have a clue how he was meant to give anyone soul, especially not the most evil being to have walked the earth in fifty years.

He opened his mouth, Ron's face as he had last seen it, grey and unsmiling on the cold earth, at the forefront of his mind. He was ready, he told himself, ready to do what he had once doubted he would be able to. He would kill Voldemort, with the fury and desire that Bellatrix Lestrange had told him about – _was it only a year ago? _– and hope, hope that the cold hearted anger that was gripping his mind, and so would grip his spell, would be enough to kill both body and the being that clung to a fake life inside it.

The words were half formed on his tongue when he finally looked at Mal – _Voldemort _one final time, ready to relish his passing.

A saw a pair of grey, desperate eyes looking back at him. He remembered the pain, the suffering of having Voldemort living within his mind, however briefly, and, at the last moment, almost subconsciously, he changed the words that flew from his mouth.

"_Expelliarmus!" _he cried, and the spell shot towards the other figure, hitting him square on the chest. There was a strange gulping noise as the wand flew from the pale hand, as though the earth had taken in a deep breath, and for a moment time itself didn't seem to want to fit.

And then his ears popped, and the world righted itself. Malfoy's body had crumpled to the floor, lying deadly still, but above him hovered a…well, a cloud was the best way of describing it. It wasn't black – it wasn't any colour. It was a thousand tiny bits of _something, _devoid of any colour, stripped even of white and grey. It was hard to focus on, and looking at it, Harry's head erupted with pain.

For a moment it hovered, as though it were looking down at the world going on beneath it, and then…then it exploded. The thousands of tiny bits separated off in every direction, falling and somehow getting higher at exactly the same time, until they couldn't been seen at all, and, for a moment, Harry could have sworn there was a scent of ginger in the air.

Beneath them, a seventeen year old boy let his wand fall to his side, and felt the echoes of hundreds of beings, dead because of the darkness, finally clamber down off the perch they had claimed on his shoulders, and wander off their own way.

And then he toppled, face forward, into the mud.

_Sleep_. his mind murmured comfortingly.

So he did.

**HedwigThinksCrazyHarryBites**

The world did not end. There was no great white light, searing down from the heavens to stop every Death Eater in its track the moment their master passed. Indeed, the actual moment the Dark Lord finally fell passed unnoticed by all but the very few nearest to the scene, two of whom were in no fit state to pass on the news at any rate.

Indeed, more than two full minutes had passed before the first Death Eater began to scream.

Hermione span round, expecting to see the torture of yet another student. Instead, she was met with the sight of at least three Death Eaters writhing in pain, clutching their arms as though they were about to fall off. Whatever it was seemed to be spreading, for more screams were being added to the mix, and several fell to the ground, apparently unable to support themselves. It was both horrifying and transfixing to watch, these pillars of fear knocked down by some invisible force, pain raking through their bodies.

For a moment, the defenders of Hogwarts were stunned into silence and stillness. Then a quick thinking Hufflepuff fifth year leapt forward and hit the nearest Death Eater with a body-bind. Those around him followed suit, and within minutes the tide of the battle had turned.

And then came a cry so shrill, so haunting it would stay with Hermione until her dying day.

"Nooooooooooo! Master!"

It was the cry of a woman who had lost all and everything, and had just found out; the cry of a madwoman facing the end.

For the first time since Ron had disappeared that afternoon, Hermione felt something akin to hope blossom in her chest. There was one thing, and one thing only, that could make Bellatrix Lestrange wail so.

She began to push her way through the surrounding people, who were beginning to shake the cry from their heads and return to their previous tasks of debilitating as many Death Eaters as possible before what ever spell had taken them so was lifted. She didn't know where Harry had gone, couldn't remember what direction he had been heading in when she had last seen him, but she knew vaguely where Bellatrix's voice had come from, and that seemed as good a choice as any.

Harry, however, was not to be found. Why oh why did he always get himself into the grand and often gruesome ending of things when none of them were around?! The all go down the trapdoor, he and Ron go down to the Chamber, they all go to the Ministry…but somehow, he's always on his own by the time he reaches Voldemort. If he'd managed to get himself killed, she'd find a spell to bring him back to life and then let Ginny loose on him.

As if reading her mind, barely seconds later a shaking body appeared from the crowd around her and latched its arms around her.

"Hermione! Oh thank Merlin…"

"Ginny!"

"What's going on?"

The pair paused, taking their bearings for the first time all night. The taste of the air had changed, somehow; gone was the sheer desperation, the cold will to defend what was theirs. It had been replaced with something else, something dancing on the edges of peoples minds as the tide had changed…not quite hope, there was no time for that yet, but something very very close to it.

"Harry's done something." said Ginny matter of factly. "And if he's got himself killed in the process, god help him, I'll…"

What Ginny planned to do, Hermione didn't wait to find out. She set off again, the younger girl hot on her heals.

**HedwigThinksCrazyHarryBites**

Perhaps someone, somewhere, had taken pity on them, for it was barely a minute later that they cleared the edge of the remains of the battle. It felt like hours since the first Death Eater had started screaming, but in reality it could not have been more than a few minutes. An instinct borne of years of friendship with one Harry Potter guided their feet towards the small knot of people that was slowly forming around…_something_. It didn't take a genius to guess what the something was.

Thus far, the small group of people blocking their view seemed to consist mainly of older wizards and witches, and a couple of aurors – no one yet of any great importance, at least in their eyes. No one who cared as much as they did about what awaited them in the centre.

The gaggle seemed to know that, too, for those nearest the two girls moved aside as they approached, letting them pass without a word. The knot in Hermione's stomach began to squirm, and she automatically reached for a hand that wasn't there to hold. She shook herself mentally. She had already lost one of them tonight; now was the moment to find out if she had lost the other.

**HedwigThinksCrazyHarryBites**

He was lying in the dirt, robes crumpled and torn, unmoving. They didn't hesitate – within seconds, the pair of girls were crouched on either side, Ginny reaching to grasp a hand while Hermione's hand went to his neck.

"Pulse." she breathed, a smile breaking out over her face.

Ginny clutched the hand even tighter, as though letting go would mean losing him anyway. Hermione looked round, searching for a face they knew, someone who might be able to help.

"Someone get Dumbledore." came a deep, calm voice. "And has anyone gone to look for Lily and James?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt emerged from the ever-growing crowd of people, as solid and unruffled as ever.

"How is the other one?" he asked, and for the first time, Hermione and Ginny noticed the second body.

"Malfoy?" asked Ginny quietly. "Or…?"

"Malfoy, now." said Kingsley, and his tone of voice was suddenly very similar to Dumbledore's – there was no arguing with the statement. Ginny hesitated for a moment, before reluctantly letting go of Harry and approaching the other boy. A few seconds silence, and then…

"Pulse." she nodded.

"Good." said Kingsley. He turned to the crowd. "There are people hurt and in pain. You are doing no one any good standing around and staring. Someone fetch Dumbledore, someone find Lily and James and tell them their son is alive, and the rest of you help where it is needed! There is to be no more hurting here."

And, magnificently commanding, he waved his wand to raise the two still boys a metre off the ground and turned to head back to the castle.

Hermione and Ginny began to go after him, but he turned slightly to stop them in their tracks.

"That goes for you two, as well. I know you are worried about Harry, but you can do nothing for him by hovering round his side. Besides…" for the first time, a frown appeared on Kingsley's face as his eyes travelled from one to the other, "do you not have another friend to seek out? I am surprised he is not with you now…"

Hermione's shoulders slumped, and she turned her back to hide her face, while Ginny shook her head slowly. All joy at finding Harry alive had fast disappeared.

"I see." said Kingsley, and there was true sadness in his voice.

"Don't tell mum. Or any of them. We'll do it later." begged Ginny quickly, and, after a moment, Kingsley acquiesced. Taking a final look at their floating friend, the two turned to go. There was work to be done.

**HedwigThinksCrazyHarryBites**

It was a gruelling task. Moving through the remains of the battlefield, unearthing friends and foes alike. There was no glory in the aftermath, no wash of joy. Just pain and hurt and a lot of fixing to be done.

They found Lily and James near the walls, working together to bind the stunned and body-bound Death Eaters. James saw them coming; the look on his face was all they needed to know no one had told them of the fate of their son.

"Harry…" he said as they got nearer, taking in their bloodied hands and dirty faces.

"Alive." said Ginny quickly.

A broad smile swept over Lily Potter's face, while James breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

"Thank Merlin. Where is he?"

"Kingsley took him to the hospital wing. He's unconscious."

Lily made as though to head inside, but James put a restraining hand on her arm.

"Soon, Lily." he said seriously. "If they were letting people in, do you think these two would be out here?" He turned back to the girls. "Have you seen your mother, Ginny? She's running ragged all over the place doing a head count of her children. Let her know you're alive. And where's Ron? She was fretting over the twins…don't worry, they're both fine, we've already seen them…"

He trailed off as the roles changed, and Lily moved her hand to his arm, halting his ramble.

"Where's Ron, Hermione? Jane said she hadn't seen him…"

"He's under the willow." said Ginny carefully, determined not to cry, not yet. "We didn't want anyone to hurt…damage…him."

Comprehension dawned on the faces in front of her.

"No…" gasped Lily. "Oh my…what happened?"

"Voldemort tried to possess him." Ginny explained, her tone clipped. "When that didn't work…he got Wormtail to…Wormtail…to kill him."

Lily looked shocked, horrified and disgusted all at once. James's face, however, had gone beyond that. The cold fury that had possessed his son not an hour previous had taken up a new host. Despite all the evidence, the betrayals, some part of James Potter had still believed in his friend. No more, though. No more.

**HedwigThinksCrazyHarryBites**

The night seemed to pass both slowly and amazingly quickly. Those who were seriously hurt were taken to the Hospital Wing, which quickly became packed. Madam Pomfrey, despairing of ever getting the place in order again, promptly moved the entire set up to the Great Hall. Death Eaters were being lined up along one wall, some unconscious, some still screaming against the silencing charms cast upon them. The wounded were along the opposite wall, bloodied, bruised, unconscious, but still living. And on two of the house tables, stretching down the length of the Hall, lay the dead. It was a growing line, painful to look at, to see the families hunting out faces they feared to find.

Remus was tired and aching, but he couldn't stop yet. It had been hours since the clumsy ending to the battle, but the clean up was still underway. He had finally persuaded Tonks to take a break; a gash on her forehead had been bleeding freely for at least three hours before he had pointed out she would be of no use to him at all if she collapsed from blood loss, and so he prowled the grounds alone. Occasionally, he would come across a friend, an acquaintance, sometimes alive, all too often dead. Hestia Jones, a Ravenclaw seventh year he remembered from his year of teaching…the look on Lily's face when he'd asked her if she'd seen Ron Weasley. It would be a long time before the ghosts of that night finally faded.

Dawn was coming. He could sense it; being a werewolf meant he was always somewhat intoned with the moon, and out here in the open he could feel it slipping away. The grounds were misty, coated in the cold, soft grey of early morning. The sun would be rising soon.

And there were far to many people who wouldn't see it.

So intent on his search for…well, for anyone, he almost missed the figure swooping towards him. Indeed, it was only when it barked "Lupin!" that he clocked it at all.

"Severus." he acknowledged. "It is good to see you."

There was no lie in the statement – he had wondered as to the fate of the potions master–cum–spy, and the sight of one more ally alive was a relief.

Snape bowed his head once, which Remus took to mean an agreement to the statement.

"There is something…someone you should see. Where is Potter?"

"Which one?" asked Remus before he could stop himself.

Snape's lip curled. "The eldest. And I don't mean the one I've had the misfortune to teach for the past six years."

Remus shook his head, a small chuckle escaping. Only Snape could belittle Harry on the same night he had defeated Voldemort.

"James is around, somewhere. Lily has returned home briefly, to let the children know they are all fine. I could call him, if you wish."

"I have no wish for it, believe me, Lupin. But it is necessary."

Taking that as a yes, Remus sent his patronus in search of his best friend. The odd pair waited in silence for several minutes, until the sound of running feet announced James's arrival.

"Harry's awake!" was the first thing out of his mouth upon seeing his friend. "He's awake and fine and Hermione and Ginny are with him."

The sight of the bat-like man standing just beyond his friend seemed to pull James up short.

"Severus." he nodded – what was quite possibly the civilest thing James had ever said to the man.

"There is someone you need to say." said Snape curtly, turning with a swish of his cloak and leading them towards the lake. Perplexed, the two men followed.

**HedwigThinksCrazyHarryBites**

"I found him about fifteen minutes ago. He says he does not want real help, and personally I doubt it would do anything for him anyway. But he requested a spell to keep him going for a small while longer, and to speak to both of you."

Snape nodded his head towards a small, shabby figure who was propped up against a rock not far from the edge of the lake.

"I'll leave him to you."

Remus watched the potions master leave with a small frown – he would never understand Severus Snape. James, meanwhile, was approaching the figure.

"Hello?" he asked softly, and something in the mess of robes twitched.

"James?" croaked a voice, and, after a moment, a face turned from where his had been resting against the stone to look up at him.

James jumped back in horror, reaching out an arm to prevent Remus going any closer. The figure, however, had already seen him.

"Remus." it acknowledged, before breaking out in a raking cough.

The two men, however, could do no more than stare down at the beaten, bloodied form of Peter Pettigrew.

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Ahhhh…so what are they going to do?! Lot's of talk next week, and a heck of a lot to be revealed…brownies to anyone who can guess any of it! The very core part of this plot is about to come out…thinking caps on, folks! See you next week! 


	48. In Which Peter Explains

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Hey guys! I'm going to get this in on time, if by barely a few minutes…I've been at a Halloween party that was much more enjoyable than I'd thought it would be, hence I stayed much longer than I thought I would…

Anyway, quick, but heartfelt, thank you's to the following for their reviews last week: **Dingohart, lemonwedges4, helbaffy, NamelessHeretic, Isis the Sphinx, Dobby's Socks, ballerinadoll9, disneydork, GinnyP0tter, xLzM, Mei1105, Nooka, LostHeart4, armygundamgirl, Nessa19, marie, Long Lost Dream37, elphaba731 **and **girlwithlilies.**

And on we go!

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James was the first to react; he turned heel sharply and began to walk away. Remus made a halfhearted move after him, whether to bring James back or follow he wasn't sure himself. But it was Peter himself who halted their movements.

"Wait." he choked. "Please."

There was more beneath the words than a simple request - years of thought and sorrow and sheer desperation had been poured into the two syllables as they left the dying mans mouth. For he was dying – all three present knew so – and perhaps it was that, in the end, that made Remus and James turn back.

"Why?" asked Remus quietly – he had never needed to raise his voice to cause his three friends to pause, reconsider and explain themselves, and that, at least, had not changed.

"Have you not wondered," the pitiful man said, "how you are standing here in the first place?"

James, for it was evidently him the comment was aimed at, frowned.

"Years as a rat seemed to have dulled your brain, Pettigrew." he spat, detached and aloof. "And considering the state it was in to begin with…last I checked, I believe I walked here. Or possibly ran."

Peter Pettigrew began shaking his head violently.

"No!" he began, but was cut off by another coughing fit, while Remus and James waited with badly concealed patience for him to finish. "I meant, why you are able to walk and ran and whatever in the first place."

He had their attention, much as they were loath to admit it.

"What do you mean?" asked James carefully.

"I thought I was the stupid one."

"What do you want, Peter?" sighed Remus, tired and weary.

"Forgiveness." replied the small man instantly. "And to explain."

James's lip curled. "Forgiveness? Just when I think you can't get anything more ridiculous out of your mouth…you sold us out, Pettigrew! You'd have had me and Lily dead without batting an eyelid! Because of you, Harry had a bloody miserable childhood and Sirius spent nearly a third of his life in jail. And, if I'm not much mistaken, you nearly killed my daughter last November. Not to mention Ron Weasley."

He wasn't shouting – he didn't need to. There was such anger, such pure hatred, injected into his voice that Peter visibly recoiled.

"Please," he begged feebly. "Listen to me. Let me explain."

Something in his voice, some small remnant of the first year boy who's chocolate frog had been stolen by the Slytherin third years, made the two men stay.

"I suppose," began Peter slowly, "the beginning is best. It was just after Harry was born, maybe a week later. I got home from work, and he…and Voldemort was waiting for me. He said that…that if I didn't join him, help him, he'd kill you. All of you. And mum. And…you remember Mary Greengrass? She was a half-blood, Hufflepuff, year below us. He said there were Death Eaters round her house, and if I joined him he'd call them away. What was I meant to do? All her brothers and sisters would be home, and her parents – eight people all dead because of me. I couldn't let that happen!"

"You were going out with her?" asked Remus, surprise in his voice.

Peter nodded.

"You never told us."

"You'd have laughed. And Sirius wouldn't have shut up about it. It was our secret, hers and mine. We were going to get married when the war was over."

"The Greengrass's were killed." remembered Remus suddenly. "About a week before Voldemort went after Lily and James. The parents, and the two eldest children. The rest were at Hogwarts."

Peter nodded again, his eyes on the floor.

"It was my punishment." he said quietly.

"For what?"

"For trying to refuse you and Lily when you asked me to be secret keeper. Vol…Voldemort could read minds. He saw I tried to say no, the first time you'd asked, and he was furious. Said I'd forfeited her life, and if I didn't tell him where you were, it would be my mother next."

"So you told him." said James in a hollow tone.

"I had no choice!"

"You could have told us! We'd have sorted protection, for your mum and Mary and you!"

"No! I'd spent that last ten years of my life running to you or James or Sirius for protection. I thought I could do it alone. I needed to do it alone."

"And you failed." pointed out James unnecessarily.

For the first time, a smile stretched itself over the broken face of Peter Pettigrew.

"Not entirely. The fact that we're having this conversation is proof of that."

It had been growing steadily lighter throughout the exchange – somewhere, the sun was beginning to shine on a new day. In the grounds of Hogwarts, all was still grey and damp, the early morning mist reluctant to remove its hold on the landscape. And, without realising what they were doing, as the sun had edged up towards the horizon, Remus and James had been slowly moving closer to the man who had once been their friend.

"What did you do, Peter?" asked James tiredly, sinking to the floor. It was a question he had uttered many times, during their Hogwarts years and afterwards, usually after yet another cauldron had been melted into a metal mess, or an entire class had somehow ended up covered in this potion or that plant sap.

_Peter Pettigrew hurried through the village, not looking anywhere but the ground immediately before him. It was mid-morning – by rights, he had more than enough time to reach his destination, but some part of him just wanted to get there half an hour previously._

_There! Round the final corner, to the very edge of the village. The house no one but he could see. Lily was out in the garden – the charm extended to the boundary fence – humming to herself while a messy haired toddler played with a stuffed dog at her feet. Peter paused, and fixed the cloak into place. It had been Mary's, originally, a present from her mum, who worked in Experimental Charms. It wasn't perfect, no where near as good as James's – the charm didn't have much life expectancy, and if you looked closely, or knew someone was there, then it didn't work - but it would have to do. _

_The day passed slowly. He stayed by the large kitchen window, standing in the hollow the cat had made amongst the flowers. From his vantage, he could see almost everything that went on on the bottom floor of the house. The kitchen-cum-dining room was open in front of him, and the sitting room opened off one side of that. Provided no one shut the doors, he was fine. _

_Afternoon dragged onwards. Lily, forever a muggle-born, insisted on carving pumpkins, aided, and mainly abetted, by her two boys. It was the picture of familial bliss – if he hadn't known it, Peter would never have guessed they were in hiding from the most dangerous wizard of the century. Lily, up to her elbows in pumpkin, James, laughing and trying to use his wand, much to his wife's disapproval. And Harry, watching the odd antics of his parents, giggling away to himself and spreading bits of pumpkin all over the floor, the table legs and himself._

_Darkness fell. James swept his son upstairs, holding him at arms length to avoid catching a swipe from a sticky hand, and the Potter's cat, a lovely grey creature that went by the name of Smokes, jumped up onto the table._

"_Oh no you don't."_

_Lily bundled the cat up and headed for the back door. Seizing his chance, Peter slipped in behind her back while she carried the creature outside, shielded by the semi-invisibility cloak, as well as the d__isillusion __charms he had cast upon himself._

_The family had moved into the sitting room, now, the two pumpkins sitting on the windowsill, grinning to the room at large. Harry was in pyjamas, blue, with clouds and broomsticks on them, bouncing on his father's knee, while Lily read, some charms book, probably, if Peter knew her. _

_The clock on the mantelpiece chimed, and Lily swung herself upright, taking her child from his bouncing ride with laughter on her face. She left the room with him, and James stretched out on the sofa, grinning at the pumpkins grinning back at him. _

_And then a great wail resounded through the building, like a thousand fire alarms all going off together. James sprang to his feet, wand in hand, racing to the hall. Peter was hot on his heels, not caring about the cloak failing him now – in that moment, James Potter would not notice him. He slipped into the alcove made by the stairs, just behind his friend, wand and spell ready. The door exploded inwards, and out of the dust stepped the tall, pale figure, that Peter Pettigrew hated more than anything else on this earth. Those hands had wielded the wand that had killed Mary Greengrass…that mouth was the origin for so many words, of blackmail, of pain, of smirking as they explained how he had failed…_

_Concentrate!_

_James was shouting, ducking a curse and nearly tripping over a shoe. Voldemort laughed, and raised his wand once more…Peter was closer to James than the Dark Lord, and so, although the two spells were uttered almost in tandem, his reached the target a split second sooner. _

"_Tractus consto." he whispered, the words hidden by Voldemort's triumphant cry of "Avada Kedavra!"_

_No time to stop and check it had worked…Voldemort would have a few seconds gloating over the dead body, for there was no way the woman upstairs could escape. But he had to get up there first, find the other Potters and reach them without being noticed, or all would be lost…_

"And then I did the same upstairs, for Lily. I tried to do it for Harry, but in the end…he didn't need it."

Silence for a few minutes, as the increasingly pale Peter paused to breathe deeply at the end of his tale. His speech was becoming slow and erratic, sentences taking an age to finish.

Remus's eyes were wide.

"You cast _Tractus consto_?" he asked incredulously.

Peter ducked his head.

"_Tractus _whato?" queried James, sounding doubtful.

"The freezing charm. Not like water freezing." clarified Remus, slipping easily into professor mode. "A time freezing charm. Cast upon objects, it can suspend them in time, trapping them in the condition they were when the spell was cast. You could set fire to it, attack it with a hammer, anything, and it won't be affected. But it's an incredibly complex charm…and casting it on a living being…that's why you had to cast it seconds before the killing cruse hit. The charm would have broken under such a powerful spell if it was much older, it's not meant to be used on humans."

His tone of voice caused a proud smile to break out on Peter's face. It hailed back to evenings in the common room, when Peter would finally summon a cushion, or transfigure his tea pot, or grasp some concept or other, after hours of patient tutoring from Remus. So much had changed since then, but the warm, bubbly feeling somewhere in his stomach, when Remus announced he'd got it, hadn't.

James, however, was not convinced.

"We're supposed to believe all that? That you decided to save our lives using a ridiculously complex spell? Voldemort's a Legilimency, and you're not an Occlumens. He'd have ripped the idea right out of your head, if you'd even thought of it in the first place!"

"Which is why I didn't think of it until I was fairly certain I wouldn't see him again. I spent most of the week after we did the transfer of the charm determinedly not thinking of ways to help you."

James grunted, still looking very doubtful. Remus too was now frowning.

"But why did you hide, then?" he asked, sounding doubtful.

"It didn't work. Lily and James weren't meant to die...it said in the paper the next day, that they were dead, and I couldn't work out what had gone wrong…there was nothing to prove I hadn't betrayed them. Sirius knew of the swap, he'd know what I'd done. I thought Dumbledore and you would believe him. When he cornered me…I panicked."

"You killed twelve muggles!"

Peter bowed his head.

"And what about later? In the Shack, two years ago? You could have told us, explained, we could have maybe even hunted out Lily and James, cleared Sirius's name…"

"Sirius would never have heard me out. You know that, Remus – I'd not seen him in one of those moods since the night he nearly killed Snape. He'd probably of killed me for even suggesting it – he nearly threw me out the window when I tried to speak to Harry, mentioning that night would have been signing my own death warrant. And I had no proof. As far as I knew, Lily and James were dead."

"You helped Voldemort return to life!" exclaimed Remus suddenly, as though he had only just remembered.

"To save Harry!" choked Peter, coughing again.

James's face was thunderous. "You mean to tell me you thought that bringing back one of the most evil wizards to have walked the earth, who also had a personal vendetta against my son, was somehow also saving said son's life?!"

"After I left Hogwarts, I went to the Malfoys, as a rat. I lived under their floorboards, eavesdropping, and it soon became clear that word of Voldemort's whereabouts and continued existence was reaching the Death Eaters. Half of them were convinced killing Harry would bring him back. If I were to find him, one of his first orders would be that no one was to touch the boy but him. I thought…I remembered, when I'd been Ron's pet, how they'd talked about Quirrell not being able to touch Harry when possessed by Voldemort…and I had more faith in the boy's abilities against him than a while horde of Death Eaters."

James was shaking his head at the twisted logic, but even he couldn't deny some small part of it made sense.

"What about Jane?" asked Remus quietly. "You came to kill her."

Again, Peter shook his head.

"No. Voldemort ordered me to come, because I could work the passageway under the willow, and I started planning again. We were to kill Jane, and, if possible, the Malfoy girl. Crabbe and Goyle came with me, dense as trolls, and easy to confund. I made them believe Dumbledore had been coming when we left. Voldemort believed them, and the lie was rooted in enough truth for him not to become suspicious of me."

Silence once more, save for the laboured breathing of Peter.

"You want us to believe you've been protecting Harry all this time? And Jane?" snorted James. But there was a small note of belief in his voice, and it was that which Peter locked onto.

"Yes! I couldn't…I got myself in something I couldn't get out of, and I've been trying to repent for it ever since! So many times I've dreamt I could change it all, and then I wake up, and I can't, so I try and do the next best thing. I once swore to protect you with my life, but this was a case where my life wouldn't have been enough."

Remus and James stared at their former friend, seeing the truth shining from his dull eyes, longing to believe it. Except for the one thing that held them back.

"Ron." said James. "You killed Ron Weasley."

Peter looked truly surprised.

"No." he said, frowning. "I didn't."

"Don't bother lying, Peter." sighed Remus. "We've seen Ginny and Hermione. They told us what Voldemort said."

Peter shook his head violently.

"No!" he said firmly. "I didn't kill him! Ron Weasley isn't dead!"

There was a stunned silence.

"What?" gaped James.

"He's not dead." repeated Peter. "I gave him a Draught of Living Death. Very strong form of it, too. Snape will have a potion to reverse the effects. Voldemort thought I'd poisoned him. Three years ago, Harry saved my life. I owed him a life-debt…and I knew that if he were anything like you, the death of his best friend would break him in a way little else could. I've repaid my debt, and Voldemort is gone, and you Potters are as safe as you're ever going to be."

And finally, they believed him.

"Oh Wormtail…" sighed James with a shake of his head. "You are an idiot, you know. A surprisingly resourceful idiot, but still an idiot."

Peter grinned. "I learnt from the best." he said, looking from one friend to the other. A pause, and then, "There was nothing I could do for Sirius. In the Ministry, I mean. I'm sorry."

Remus nodded, and James shrugged awkwardly. The man before them had very nearly killed one of them and ruined the life of the other, but, somehow, in a strange, twisted way, he had done it with their best interests at heart. They moved so they sat either side of the dying man, warming his body with their own. For a moment, a daydream trickled across the minds of all three.

A sitting room, large and furnished with loved, battered furniture. Four men and four women, talking and laughing, snug and safe, with uncountable children racing amongst them. A day of warmth and love and friendship that could have been, but had never happened, and never would for this particular group, but, in that moment, the tantalising glimpse of it was very nearly enough.

And then it was gone, faded away into the early morning cold, the starkness of the battlefield. They sat, alone, apart, three together, who were slowly becoming two.

Peter was, for the first time in many years, content. He was numb to the pain now, ignoring the dull, steady throbbing that told him without doubt he was dying. His friends – his friends – were warm on either side, and, as his eyes closed to the rising sun for the final time, he could have sworn he saw a giant black dog lolloping towards him, racing a wolf and a stag with a rat clinging to its antlers across the grounds.

The ghosts of how things had been.

Peter Pettigrew smiled. And died.

* * *

Ok. So this chapter hasn't turned out how I wanted, and I'm not very happy with it. I think I'll be fiddling with it a lot over the next few weeks – the basic facts won't change, just how they're delivered.

See you all next week!


	49. In Which Hope Begins

Back again! And…after this one, only two more. They're planned and half written…the end is nigh.

A hundred thanks to the reviewers of last week: Dingohart, xLzM, NamelessHeretic, disneydork, lemonwedges4, Nessa19, Aislinn Carter, Mona Ogg, Nooka, Mei1105, LostHeart4, PSTurner, Phil Boswell, helbaffy, 2smrt4u, ballerinadoll9, Isis the Sphinx, Dobby's Socks, GinnyP0tter, grimlock78, elphaba731, cHoCoLaTe-cHiHuAhUa, TheRedBandit, mervoparkite, Long Lost Dream37 and Aggiebell.

Couple of people had quite interesting ideas/questions about Peter – some called him a hero, others thought him beyond repentence. My thoughts…

In many ways, Peter wasn't a hero - he did still kill 12 muggles, and in many ways he was a coward, unwilling to face anyone, or own up to what he'd done, even when he knew Sirius was suffering in his place. I also think, however, that he was trying so hard to save all the people he loved that he just ended up in a huge tangley mess that he couldn't get out of. got all confused and tangled up, and that's where he went wrong. Road to hell is paved with good intentions, afterall. But yes, he saved Lily and James, Jane, Ron, and perhaps Harry.

On the other hand, in a way, it was he who condemed them in the first place...as Harry once said, in the end, it all comes back the Voldemort.

So maybe he was a hero, in his own way. Even I'm not sure of that one!

Not really an explanation at all. Sorry.

This weeks HTCHB… ballerinadoll9 with **H**agrid**T**enderly**C**hases**H**azardous**B**utterflies.

* * *

Something was tickling his nose. He could feel it quite distinctly – a soft itch, which was growing more and more irritating with every passing second.

He wondered if he was dead. Somehow, he didn't think so – death, he suspected, would be far quieter, more peaceful. And irritating itches would be banished. He could hear talking, whispers close too, but shouts and cries not far away. Movement; lots of movement. Footsteps approaching, passing, leaving.

Growing bored of the guessing game, Harry Potter did what seemed like the most sensible thing, and opened his eyes. It did not help much, for someone had removed his glasses – he could just about make out the blurry figures moving around, but their faces were vague and indistinct. He reached out a hand, scrabbling for his glasses, which appeared to be absent not only from his face, but from his immediate vicinity as well.

And then someone placed them into his hand.

Harry put them on quickly, and turned to see who was there. Luna Lovegood smiled at him.

"Hello," she said, looking tired and worn, but still dreamy as ever. "I was passing, and I saw you scrabbling. Ginny put them under the bed, so they wouldn't get stood on. I'm glad you're awake."

Harry frowned, gingerly pulling himself up.

"How long have I been unconscious for?" he asked, glancing about.

Luna pointed upwards at the ceiling – they were in he Great Hall, Harry realised – which showed the early dawn.

"Not very long. Everyone was very worried though. There's a lot of clearing up to do, or Ginny and Hermione and Ron would be glued to you, I expect."

Her words reminded Harry of the fate of his best friend – no one else, it seemed, had heard what Voldemort had said. He swung himself over the edge of the bed and onto his feet, ignoring the moment of dizziness, and began looking round.

"I think they're outside." said Luna, apparently guessing who he was looking for. Harry nodded his thanks, and headed for the exit.

**HagridTenderlyChasesHazardousButterflies**

He saw them before they saw him. They were moving a heap of stone that had fallen over the path just in front of the front steps, making access to the castle itself a fairly perilous trip. Both had their wands out, Ginny levitating the stones of the path, Hermione sorting them into a relatively stable pile at the side until the arduous process of rebuilding could begin.

Harry paused for a moment, hidden in the shadows of the Entrance Hall, and watched. They were dirty, sweaty, covered in dust and blood, robes ripped and hair matted. It was a sight that made a broad smile break out over his face, and one that would stay with him until his dying day. Battered, bruised, exhausted, but so wonderfully, beautifully alive…Hermione turned, another load of stone rearranging itself before her wand, and Harry stepped out into the early morning semi-light to allow himself to be seen.

She froze for a moment. Her wand fell to her side, causing the stones she had been levitating to drop with a crash, dislodging several minutes careful construction, and Ginny, alerted by the crumbling pile, span round to seek out the distraction. A beam took over Hermione's face, while Ginny's eyes suddenly looked as though someone was shinning a candle through them.

They hit him together, colliding in a mess of arms and relief. Harry could have quite happily stayed there forever, locked in the embrace with the two girls who were, in that moment, his entire world, but there were things that needed saying and doing.

"My mum and dad…" he began, breaking away from the other two, but retaining a firm grip on Ginny's hand.

Hermione nodded and smiled waterly. "They're fine. We saw them about half an hour ago."

Harry let the relief flood his chest for a moment, but damped it quickly to face the other, more pressing matter.

"Ron…"

Ginny shook her head quickly. "We probably ought to…you know…get him…" she said shakily. "People have been asking where he is…mum'll guess soon…she's helping Pomfrey at the moment, but when she realises she's not seen him…I think the twins have already…"

Harry nodded grimly, and the three turned to start a much slower path back down the steps. No one yet seemed to have noticed him, and so they were able to cross the grounds in relative peace. Ron was as they had left him, protected by the willow, hidden by the leaves. If he hadn't known better, Harry would have said he was sleeping.

Hermione had her wand out, but, for the first time in anyone's memory, could not manage to spell to levitate the body. At best, it would tremble slightly, a rise by a few centimetres, before falling back down.

Choking back a sob, she turned away. Harry took over, lifting his friends body and beginning the slow march back to the castle.

They were a strange procession; three teen's, with the body of a fourth floating along in front of them. But tonight it was not so unusual, for many had returned that way, carrying the bodies of those who had fallen far too soon.

So it was only when they entered the Great Hall that they were first noticed. Bill, who, judging by the way his clothes were crumpled and his hair messed, had just checked in with his mother, met them at the doorway. His first reaction was a broad smile, a movement towards his sister as though to hug her. And then he saw the face of the body they bought with them.

Harry had always viewed the eldest Weasley child as solid. That was the best word he could think of for Bill Weasley – calm, strong, unflinching. Which made the sight of his face literally crumpling before their eyes all the worse.

"No…" he gasped, rushing forward to pick his brother up out of the air. "Ron…"

He turned, and strode towards the tables running down the centre of the Hall. Molly Weasley, who had been bent over an injured witch, seemed to sense her son's distress, for she straightened, turned…and saw.

She didn't wail. Didn't shout, didn't scream. Glided like a ghost over to the spot where he eldest son was laying her youngest amongst the dead.

And then she cried. Very nearly fell on top of the body that had been Ron, hugging him, clutching him to her as though that alone could bring him back. Tears were flowing freely down Ginny's cheeks – Bill scooped her up and cradled her to his body, as he had done so many times when she had been small, their faces pressed into each others shoulders.

Word spread quickly, for it could not have been more than a couple of minutes before the rest of the Weasley's began to appear. Arthur, suddenly looking old beyond his years, appeared, peeling his wife off his son's body and holding her while she sobbed. Fred and George arrived, as always, together, gaunt and drawn but not surprised. Ginny had been right – they had guessed. And last of all, Charlie, looking lost and unsure as he stared down at his brother.

Harry and Hermione stepped back, suddenly feeling out of place amongst the family's grief. Hermione hadn't taken her eyes of Ron since Bill had lain him out of the table, but movement seemed to have jerked her back to reality, for a sob erupted from somewhere in her stomach, and she threw herself against Harry. He caught her instinctively, clutching her to his chest as she sobbed soundlessly into his shoulder.

**HagridTenderlyChasesHazardousButterflies**

They were too late. James knew it the moment they crossed the threshold of the Great Hall. At the far end, the crowd of Weasley's were easily distinguishable. As was their mourning, from the family of red-heads to Harry and Hermione, standing apart, heads buried in each others shoulders.

They approached slowly, unsure how to approach the family. They had hoped to arrive before Ron's body was laid with the dead, when there was chance to spare them this despairing pain…but it was not to be. Harry and Hermione seemed to sense their presence, for they both looked up, detangling themselves while still maintaining some small form of contact. In their minds, the two needed that touch, the reminder that they remained…for all the friendship the Marauders had once shared, Remus and James could only begin to guess at the form that existed between these three, who had stood by each other through so much, pain and despair and laughter…losing Ron would be like losing a limb. Except worse.

For a moment, a small part of James's brain felt the soft bite of jealousy towards his son's two best friends. It was stupid, he knew, and over the past few months he had accepted that his relationship with Harry would never be the same as the one he had with Jack. Any one of his other children would have come to him, by now, he knew, perhaps not to cry, but for a hug, a reassurance, the comfort that only a parent can give…but Harry, his eldest son, his first child, had never known of that, and so would never seek it from it's rightful source…Instead, he had formed his own family of sorts.

And now he fully believed to have lost one of them, and he, James, had the knowledge to put him out of his misery, and here he was _brooding_!

"He's alive, Harry." he said softly, deciding this was not a time for beating about the bush.

Unfortunately, his son took both his tone and his words completely the wrong way.

"What?! Still? How'd you…what did Dumbledore say? This was meant to be it!"

"Harry…" James raised a hand to stop his sons rambling. Grief, combined with the horror of the idea that even after the price he'd paid, Voldemort could still be out there, seemed to have caused the boy to take leave of his senses.

"Ron." interrupted Remus plainly. "Ron's alive. Not Voldemort."

Those two words – _Ron's alive_ – knocked the air out of the two teenagers.

"No…" frowned Harry, shaking his head, both determined in his knowledge and confused as to why these two men would be lying to him. "He's not…we checked. No pulse. Nothing."

"Voldemort ordered Peter Pettigrew to murder him." explained James, choosing his words carefully. He would need to speak to them about that fact later. "It seems Peter has held on, over the past few years, to the fact that you once saved his life, Harry. He owed you a debt, and, as he saw it, saving the life of your best friend was easily equal to saving the life of yourself. He gave Ron a particularly strong mixture of the Draught of Living Death we accidentally discovered one potions lesson in third year…Slughorn nearly had a heart attack, he thought Remus was dead..."

He realised he was rambling, and so shut his mouth.

A relay of emotions flashed across Harry's face. Despair to disbelief to that tantalising wonder…hope.

"What do we need to do?" Hermione's reply was instant, automatic.

"Find Severus." said Remus quickly. "Ask him for the antidote. A normal dose should at least bring Ron into normal sleep, but he will know what to do far better than I."

Hermione nodded, turned heel and vanished, ducking into the crowd with grim determination. Remus couldn't help but feel a stab a pity towards one Severus Snape, should he try to refuse the girl what she asked.

Harry appeared to have been gripped by the same determination as his friend – instead of hunting down the potions professor, however, he had turned to the not-dead body of his best friend. He laid one hand on Ron's shoulder, staring at his face with fierce intensity, as though will alone could cause him to break free of the potion. Molly Weasley evidently took this completely the wrong way, for she burst into fresh tears.

Remus handled it this time. He knew the Weasley's far better, and, when it came down to it, he held their trust more, too.

James watched as his friend explained as best he could, watched as the Weasley's expressions turned from despair to hope, watched as Ginny slipped away from her eldest brother and joined Harry by Ron, searching for any sign of life.

The arrival of Severus bought silence. All eyes were on him. The slight frown on his face, and the way he kept sending annoyed glares towards a very satisfied looking Hermione indicated he was not there willingly.

They watched with baited breath as the potions master examined Ron with a critical eye.

"He is alive." he said at last. "I will bring the potion to revive him once those in a more critical state have been seen to."

And he swept away.

**HagridTenderlyChasesHazardousButterflies**

Morning crept slowly onwards, and, with the daylight, came the full impact Voldemort's forces had rent on the castle and it's defenders.

Hestia Jones.

Dead.

Hannah Abbott.

Dead.

Rufus Scrigemour.

Dead.

And so the list went on.

There was some light amongst the dark. Ernie McMillan awoke around mid-morning, having been cruciated into unconsciousness protecting Susan Bones the night before. Fred Weasley disappeared to St Mungo's, to return an hour later with Angelina, who had been hit by a reductor curse that had missed her body, but ensured any hopes she had of playing Quidditch were dashed – her left arm now stopped abruptly at the elbow.

All over Hogwarts, families and friends were re-assembling, counting the living, finding their dead. Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken command of the Ministry work, sorting the aurors and organising the officials into some form of order. Lily Potter returned, embracing her eldest fiercely for some moments, before releasing him and shouting at him in a manner akin to Mrs Weasley for several minutes.

In the end, it took Dumbledore to calm her down. He arrived in the middle of "Voldemort, you foolish boy! Again! Do you have a death wish? Because keep going as you are and I shall grant it!"

Harry, to give him some credit, was only looking mildly stunned. Speech seemed to have eluded him, and he simply gaped at his mother. James was hovering anxiously nearby, unwilling to interrupt his wife before she wound herself down, and several curious passers-bys had paused to watch as the boy they were regarding as their saviour received a complete dressing down. Facing Voldemort was one thing; Lily Potter was quite another.

Dumbledore, it seemed, had no such qualms. He moved towards the woman and laid a placating hand upon her shoulder.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Lily." he said gently as she fell silent. "But I must borrow Harry for a while."

Lily, who looked slightly stunned at the interruption, nodded abruptly. If Harry thought she would simply release him, however, he had another thing coming – he was once more pulled into a tight hug, and held there for several moments.

She released him with a final squeeze and a quick kiss to the top of his head. He grinned bashfully, and she ruffled his hair slightly, before moving back to her husband and letting Harry approach the Headmaster.

"Harry." The old man greeted him with a smile. "Come. I have a feeling we both have some explaining to do. Perhaps between us we can begin to understand what passed last night."

Long used now to the Headmasters strange way of speech, Harry fell into step beside him. They were heading towards his office, he realised, and, sure enough, one password later ("Ton-Tongue-Toffee"), they were heading up the moving spiral staircase.

The entered, and Harry stopped in his tracks, more than slightly shocked. Sitting in one of the chairs opposite the Head's desk, looking more than a little bewildered, and slightly worse for wear, was Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Next week…explanations all round. Hopefully. And a bit of winding down, and, could it be…normality.

Only two more to go, folks. See you next week!


	50. In Which Bridges are Forged

Sorry…hectic, no time, etc etc…but it's here now!

This is a funny chapter…part of the reason it's so late is because I just can't quite get it to fit together the way I wanted it too…it's very irritating!

Those whose reviews for the last chapter soothed my irritation, and so have earned my eternal love, are **panther73110, disneydork, xLzM, Isis the Sphinx, Miriel'sHeart, lemonwedges4, JMMendiola, NamelessHeretic, TheRedBandit, steelkat, PSTurner, GinnyP0tter, Harrypotterfan105, Long Lost Dream37, Nooka, LostHeart4, helbaffy, dingohart, Dobby's Socks, ic3e, Len87, MDR –** No, not at all. If you read the author note at the beginning of the last chapter, maybe you'll understand what I was trying to say a bit better. I don't deny he murdered, or that he betrayed his friends, just that there is two sides to the tale, and we never really heard his, and so it does make me wonder why, in the end, he did it **– anymousie, MoonGoddessBookworm and Viridian.**

My thanks to you all!

And this weeks HTCHB winner… **H**ow**T**o**C**ook**H**arry's**B**oxers, from Gaze of the Sea

* * *

Dumbledore directed Harry into the second seat, and for a few minutes there was quiet, save for Fawkes, who was crooning softly to himself.

"I doubt," Dumbledore began eventually, "that either of you have yet fully realised what came to pass last night."

Harry shook his head, and, after a moment, so did Malfoy.

"Voldemort is gone." said the old man simply. "Tom Riddle is dead, and the evil he wrought died with him. There is no return for him this time. Him, our world needs no longer fear."

A slow nod from Harry – confusion from Draco. In his eyes, the death of the Dark Lord did not warrant safety for his family.

"The thing I myself only partially understand…" continued Dumbledore, leaning forward slightly to fix each boy in turn with a piercing look, "is _how_."

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know anything. I didn't know where I was most of the time, or what was going on." He sounded strangely human, none of the sneer that had been in his voice since Harry had first met him, and for the first time he wondered what had happened to Malfoy while Voldemort had been in possession of his mind.

Dumbledore's gaze was fixed on the blond boy now, expression blank, inviting him to continue.

"Where were you, Draco?" he asked softly, so softly, a suggestion more than a request.

"Memories." said Malfoy hollowly. "Voldemort's memories. He grew up in an orphanage. A girl called Sarah used to make him ginger biscuits. She called him Tommy."

Slowly, haltingly, he told them. Dumbledore showed no reaction – Harry, however, was gaping at Malfoy as though he had just proclaimed his undying love for Hermione Granger.

By the end, Dumbledore was smiling.

"Do you appreciate now, Harry, the words an echo of Tom Riddle said to you, at the end of your second year?" he asked softly as Draco finished.

Harry shrugged awkwardly. "About us being similar? Kind of…I mean, I'd never do what he's done…"

Dumbledore nodded. "No. But the fact remains…both of you were orphans, both raised in less than loving or understanding circumstances. Both of you have faced the loss of those you loved. And yet the differences between you shall forever far outweigh the likenesses. Despite the similarities in your childhoods, you grew up to be remarkably different people; chalk and cheese, to borrow a muggle saying."

Harry frowned – what on earth was Dumbledore getting at? For he was getting at something, he knew…the look in the old man's eyes were enough to tell him that.

"I suspect, Draco, you do not realise quite how different your own upbringing has been."

Malfoy shook his head slowly. "Mother loves me." he said, still in shook from the night before, or he would doubtless not be speaking so plainly. "Father is proud of me. Most of the time."

And unsaid pass the toys, the games, the fancy clothes and broomsticks that littered the life of the Malfoy heir.

"And a child who grew up with none of that? What would you expect of him?"

"He…he would be lonely. No one would care, no one would understand. Friends get in the way, and what's the point of them anyway? People pity, but they don't understand, and praise means nothing because what is it, really? It'll just be you in the end anyway."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Draco, not the feelings you gained from your walk through Tom Riddle's memories. I mean what you yourself would expect of a person raised in such a way."

Draco shrugged. "Not a lot. I mean…I dunno…If no one's ever taught you, what do you know?"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"You, Draco, with your privileged upbringing, and the beliefs instilled in you by your parents…I think you believe to understand Tom Riddle, perhaps a little?"

Another awkward shrug. "I don't…his ideas started in the right place. There are some things he shouldn't have done…children shouldn't be killed. And other people, too…But he never knew better, did he? If no one cares about you, and you lose anyone you care about, then…well, maybe you don't learn when to stop. Or something."

Harry frowned, feeling a swell of righteousness start somewhere in his stomach. He'd had a childhood just as bad as Tom Riddle's, and had he turned into a fanatical murderer? Last he checked, no.

Dumbledore seemed to sense his discontent, for he smiled slightly, without taking his eyes off Draco, and said,

"Have you ever wondered, Draco, what happened to Harry after his parents died?"

Draco shrugged and shook his head; Harry could guess his thoughts. What concern of his was the childhood of the boy who had been his enemy for the past six years?

"Harry was taken, under my instruction, to his aunt and uncle on his mothers side. They were muggles, with a son of their own of about his age. I hoped they would treat him as a second son, or at least the nephew he was. I was aware that relationships between Lily Potter and her sister were not at their best, but I had hoped the Dursley's might overlook that. I was, however, wrong."

Harry said nothing, but could not resist a small snort. Wrong was an understatement.

"The Dursley's viewed Harry as nothing more than a burden, an inconvenience, and, for Petunia Dursley, an unpleasant reminder."

Draco turned to look at Harry, his expression free of the sneer he usually had when facing the Gryffindor. A small frown on surprise and confusion had replaced it, and it was that which prompted Harry into speech.

"They thought magic was freaky. The Dursley's like normal, and I wasn't normal enough. They thought giving me the cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom, and just letting me scrounge from Dudley's old clothes might…'stamp out the abnormality' was the phrase Uncle Vernon used, I think. They told me my mum and dad died in a car crash."

He trailed off, suddenly embarrassed, not even Ron and Hermione had ever heard such a frank summery of his childhood. Hearing Malfoy's view on why Voldemort had turned out as he had, however, had bought on a sudden desire to…well, almost defend himself. He glanced up at the Slytherin, suddenly wishing the sneer would return – if even the smallest form of pity appeared on the blond boy's face then he'd know something had gone seriously wrong with the word.

Dumbledore seemed to share his thoughts, for he spoke once more.

"I tell you this, Draco, not to make you pity Harry. He has never asked for pity, nor, I think, would he want. But to illustrate to you the similarities and the differences in these two boys, born fifty years apart. You believed the difficulties and hardships experienced by Tom Riddle in his childhood gave, if not an excuse, then a reason for his adulthood. You felt sorry for him, and, I think, you forgave him for his later actions, in some shape. Perhaps having been less affected by them, forgiveness was easier to grant."

Draco neither agreed nor disagreed; he shuffled his shoulders slightly and returned to looking at the floor.

"Do you remember the conversation we had in January, Harry?" continued the Headmaster calmly.

Harry nodded, then frowned slightly. A moment later, a look of dawning comprehension took over his face, followed by an "oh" of understanding.

Dumbledore smiled.

"Oh indeed." He agreed. "Draco granted Voldemort forgiveness…atonement, in a way, for the crimes he has committed. It would have been like fanning a flame…a small spark of humanity taking hold, if only for a moment…"

"But professor, you said humanity was what he needed to die…I didn't kill him, I just did expelliarmis…"

"You were angry, though?"

"Of course! He'd killed…I thought he'd had Ron killed. And Sirius and Katie…and my parents, nearly…"

"But you didn't try to kill him."

Harry blinked, pulled off kilter.

"No." he said, frowning. "Of course not."

Dumbledore smiled. "And that was his undoing. I explained to you how it was Voldemort was twice ripped from his body? The love of your mother, the power of your feelings for Sirius? Had Voldemort possessed even a shred of humanity at those points in time, he would be long dead. As it was, he did not, and so, I believe, it was only when Draco granted him forgiveness, and you, mere moments later, hit him with an admittedly simple spell, backed by such sheer emotion…he was not human enough to process it all. Merely, just about, human enough to die."

Silence followed the Headmasters speech for several minutes, each person digesting the news in their own way. Eventually, Dumbledore spoke once more.

"This is not, of cause, fact." He explained quietly. "We can only guess at these forces beyond the comprehension of even the greatest minds."

"But he's gone? Vol…Voldemort's gone?"

Surprisingly, perhaps, it was not Harry who uttered those words, with such desire for them to be true. Perhaps, our black-haired hero would muse later, perhaps even on the other team there had been no victors.

Dumbledore bowed his head. "He is gone."

Near identical looks of relief spread over the faces of the two teenagers, making the old man smile.

"I sometimes wonder," he mused aloud after a moment's hesitation, "if we are right to set so much store by the houses we are sorted into. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor…both fine houses, each truly remarkable in their own way…and both of you, I know, proud of the colours you have lived under for six years. And yet…in the end…it was the Hufflepuff in each of you that saw the end to this war."

And with that, slightly enebnatic comment, he nodded them both out of the room.

**HowToCookHarry'sBoxers**

Three days passed, and Hogwarts began to return to normal. Lessons would not resume until after the Summer, it was decided, but the students were to remain at school until a week before the usual end of term. Dumbledore claimed it was to ensure food in the kitchens did not go to waste; amongst themselves, many of the teachers, and a few of the parents, guessed his real reason. Sometimes, children were better off healing each other.

And heal they did. As the teachers and ministry officials worked on the buildings and grounds, returning them to their former intact state, the students worked on each other. Friends had been lost, and there were very few innocents left amongst the older students.

The younger years returned on the evening of the second day. Some parents had been reluctant to expose their offspring to the battlefield so soon afterwards, but most had agreed to the owls sent out by McGonagall. Others had taken more persuading – the heads of houses had spent much of the day touring the country, bringing back who they could. In the end, putting it off would only make it worse.

The first Harry, Ginny and Hermione knew of the youngsters return was a small, red-haired body colliding with Harry's back. The three had been sitting under a sprawling tree not far from the hospital wing; Madam Pomfrey and shooed them from the room after they had sat by Ron for the better part of three hours. It wasn't doing him or them any good, she proclaimed, and anyway, the room was full enough without them hanging round.

"Harry!"

A delighted squeal, and a pair of arms latched round his shoulders. Harry jumped, only stopped from toppling backwards by the limpet-creature clinging to him. Hermione and Ginny both burst into laughter, proper, real laughter for the first time since before the battle.

And there was Jane, looking extremely pleased with herself as she released her brother. She had not seen him since leaving the Great Hall three evenings previously, and although assured of her brothers well being by her parents, nothing was quite the same as seeing him.

Slightly awkwardly, since he was sitting and she was nearly bent double, he hugged her. She clung to him again, and Harry wondered for the first time what she had done that night, with her parents and him all gone. Knowing Jane, it probably involved a lot of pacing.

Izzy was there too – she had not gone home, simply spent the past few days at the Potters, and the two spent an animated five minutes explaining the fireworks and games at a party they had gone to the previous night, one of many thrown in haste to celebrate the fall of Voldemort. Charlie, they informed them, was "about", finding his sister, and undoubtedly sharing with her very similar stories.

Having passed on all news from home, the topic turned to Hogwarts. Lily and James had returned home the day before, and so the two girls were desperate for knowledge of everything that had happened since. Or, more to the point, _Ron_.

"I swear he's putting it off just to annoy us." Snarled Hermione, ever toughy when the subject was raised. Snape had thus far managed to avoid Weasley's, Potters and Hermione, all of whom were attempting to corner him into brewing the necessary potion to restore Ron. In fairness to the potions master, his services had been required left right and centre, providing potions to reverse the effects of some truly horrific curses. Snape's knowledge of the Dark Arts meant he was able to help where even the most skilled Healers were failing.

"Soon, he said to me." Groaned Ginny. "_Soon_. And that was this morning! I've half a mind to brew it myself…"

Izzy looked horrified. "Ginny! You'd…that's…"

"Not a good idea." Put in Harry with a small grin. Ginny's fairly disastrous attempts at potions were only surpassed by those of Neville; the difference between the two being Ginny became furious while Neville became terrified. Harry would have paid a considerable amount of money to watch his girlfriend in a potions lesson.

"Perhaps, Miss Weasley, if you and your family spent less time berating me, it would have been ready sooner."

Snape's silky voice cut across the conversation, making them all jump. Ginny blushed slightly, but still glared defiantly up at the potions master. Hermione, meanwhile, had leapt to her feet.

"It's ready?" she gasped, eyes on the small vial in Snape's hands. He bowed his head, just once. It had barely come back up again before the five students had begun their rush for the Hospital Wing.

**HowToCookHarry'sBoxers**

In the end, it was rather anti-climatic. Within half an hour, all the Weasley's bar Percy were gathered once more, watching Ron for the slightest sign of consciousness. Snape hovered over them all, like a scientist watching his latest experiment, snorting every time Molly Weasley demanded to know _why it hadn't worked yet_.

"He was given an immensely strong concoction, brewed by a very inept potionier. Do not expect miracles; it could be morning before he awakens."

As it was, evening had drawn in, Madam Pomfrey had fruitlessly tried to persuade each of them to leave for dinner, and Jane and Izzy had been sent off by Mrs Weasley for "an early night, after all the excitement" - the two youngest were still too in awe of the Weasley matriarch to argue – before Ron showed any sign of life.

"Finger!" cried Fred suddenly, leaping to his feet and earning several disapproving looks from Snape and his mother. Everyone else, meanwhile, turned their gaze to Rons hands.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the little finger on his left hand twitched. Then again. Snape nodded curtly, and billowed from the room, just as Ron's eyelids began to flutter.

"Whuzzit." He croaked, twitching still, eyes not focusing. Those surrounding him seemed to breathe in as one, watching, hoping, waiting…

"Chug." The semi-conscious boy managed. Then, "Flurp."

And, finally, as his eyes opened properly and began to focus on the blur of faces above him, "Did we win? Whuzzit?"

**HowToCookHarry'sBoxers**

The next half hour was fairly chaotic; Molly burst into tears and very nearly threw herself on top of her son, restrained only by Arthur, who was looking very near to crying himself. Charlie hugged Ginny, Hermione, slightly mad with relief, grabbed Bill, and Fred and George, feeling slightly left out, squashed Harry between them. And in the middle of it all lay Ron, gazing up at them with a look of peaceful bewilderment.

**HowToCookHarry'sBoxers**

Eventually, Madam Pomfrey managed to prise the Weasleys away. Harry and Hermione had hung back after the initial onslaught; now, though, as Pomfrey promised Molly Weasley for the fifth time that yes, he would be fine now, and yes, she could come back and see him tomorrow, and led the family away, they scooted closer.

Silence for a while as the three friends looked at each other, relishing the sight they had very nearly lost.

"What day is it?" asked Ron suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Tuesday." supplied Hermione promptly. "Snape had to take his time brewing the potion."

Ron nodded slowly. He had appeared strangely confused and out of it while his mother had been fussing round – his sudden return to relative coherentness was really quite startling.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. "I remember the Shack, and hearing someone coming…and being tied up…Katie!"

Hermione bowed her head. "She's dead, Ron. I think it was Bellatrix…"

Ron nodded slowly. "And then…afterwards. I was in a stone room, and people were talking…"

"They took you." explained Hermione shakily. "Voldemort was possessing people; he thought he'd be safe from Harry in your body, or something. But it didn't work."

"It hurt…he hated you so much, Harry, you can't begin to understand it…and it didn't work, because I don't hate, can't hate you, not at all, and I wouldn't take it and I didn't want it…"

Alarmed by his sudden agitation, Harry laid a hand on his friends shoulder, punching him gently back down onto the pillow.

"It's alright, mate. I…if he'd been using your mouth instead of Malfoys…I dunno…"

"Malfoy's?"

Hermione sighed irritably. "If you'll let me _finish_?" she snapped, but there was a smile in her eyes. "Anyway, they obviously decided that you might work as bait. Voldemort sent a message; Harry was to go to the gates, or you would be killed. Except he ordered you to be killed anyway. When we went to the gates, and he sent you over…we thought you were dead."

"But I'm not…" pointed out Ron slowly, in case they hadn't noticed.

"No." Harry took over the narrative. "Voldemort ordered Pettigrew to kill you. But…he didn't. He gave you a potion, a really strong draught of living death. Everyone but him thought you were dead."

"Pettigrew?! Why?"

"My dad…he's dead, now, Pettigrew. He was killed. But my dad and Remus saw him, just before he died…that's how we knew you weren't dead. And he told them…he owed me a life debt, from that time in the shack when I stopped Remus and Sirius killing him. Maybe he knew he was going to die tonight…maybe he wanted that off his chest before he did die…he decided that saving your life was easily as good as saving mine, because if you had died like that I would never be able to live with myself. Or something."

"And Malfoy?" asked Ron, covering the fairly awkward moment in which neither boy wanted to look at the other.

"Voldemort possessed him instead."

"Is he dead?"

"No. He helped Harry kill Voldemort."

It was a sign of how much had changed that Ron did not snort at that. Somehow, tonight, the idea of Malfoy heling them didn't seem quite so absurd.

"And we won?" he repeated, just to be sure.

"We won." confirmed Hermione. "No more Voldemort."

"No more stones. Or chambers…or tournaments or visions or…blimey Harry…" Ron looked up at his best friend in wonder. "Next year's gonna be…_ordinary_."

Harry snorted. "Given our track record, it's about time."

And suddenly they were laughing. All three of them, like first years, tears in their eyes as they tried desperately to regain control. A moments silence, and then…

"Whazzit." giggled Hermione, poking her boyfriend. And they dissolved into mirth once more.

**HowToCookHarry'sBoxers**

Pomfrey released him the following evening; awake, Ron was as fit as anyone. Harry and Hermione had spent the day in the Hospital Wing, filling their friend in on all that had happened, and trying to shield him from the worst of Mrs Weasley.

And now they walked in silence, heading towards the Great Hall for dinner, but taking their time over it. There was plenty time for food, even in Ron's mind; for now they simply enjoyed the peace and company. Eventually, however, rumbling stomachs could be ignored no more, and the trio moved with more purpose towards the Entrance Hall. Blinking slightly in the sudden darkness once inside the door, they did not notice the approaching figures until they were almost on top of each other.

Draco leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding Crabbe's foot. However, instead of a swipe of insults and/or snotty glares, he merely nodded shortly. Not quite an apology, but probably as close to one he would ever utter.

Ron seemed to have rendered speechless by the lack of hostility, while even Hermione blinked in surprise. Harry was quickest to recover; he nodded in return, and said

"Sorry. We didn't see you."

Malfoy shrugged, apparently unaware of the stunned looks on Crabbe and Goyle's faces; their usual slight confusion had deepened to complete confusion at the almost cordial exchange.

The two groups began to move past each other, when Harry, struck by a sudden impulse, turned back.

"Hey! Malfoy!"

The blond boy stopped and turned, one eyebrow raised.

"Thanks. For…for helping. You know."

A nod and a shrug. "No problem."

Harry hesitated, fighting with the impulse that had sprung up from nowhere, six years of hatred versus three days of the beginning of understanding.

"On our first train journey here," he began slowly, choosing his words carefully, "you offered me your hand and your friendship. I turned them down, and I still believe I was right to do so. But…things have changed. And…so, I was wondering if I could return the offer."

Slapped kipper would probably be a good description of the look on Malfoys face – he stared for several minutes, causing an awkward silence, while Crabbe, Goyle, Ron and Hermione all watched with equally bewildered expressions. Harry had explained very little yet of what had passed in Dumbledore's office, and even if Malfoy had, how much Crabbe and Goyle would understand is up for negotiation.

And then, just as Harry began to drop his hand, Malfoy took it.

"Truce?" he asked with a wry grin.

Harry grinned back. "Not on your life."

A final nod, hands released, and each boy turned to continue their path. Harry, Ron and Hermione were very nearly at the doors to the Great Hall when a shout from Malfoy made them halt once more.

"Oi! Potter!"

The trio turned.

"This still won't stop us flattening your quidditch team next year!"

Harry laughed. "When hell freezes over!" he called back, swinging back round to enter the Hall, Hermione on one side, Ron on the other. Luna and Neville waved from the Ravenclaw table, and Charlie, Izzy and Jane called greetings from the end of the Gryffindor table, when they sat amidst a huddle of first years. And then Ginny was coming towards them, a smile on her face as she hugged her brother, making Harry and Hermione laugh at the surprise on Rons face; it had been many years since his sister had hugged him.

Harry slipped one arm comfortably round Ginny's waist, suddenly feeling strangely content. The world was far from right; he would be attending Katie's funeral in a few days, and everyone from McGonagall downwards was giving the door leading into the little room just of the Great Hall a wide berth; it was there where the remaining bodies lay, waiting for families to make arrangements.

And yet…all around him people were laughing, talking, joking, living to the best of their abilities. Barely six months ago, the sight of so many people ignoring the terrors and wrongs of the world had shocked him, shaken him, scared him…but something, somehow, had changed.

Life wasn't good; not yet anyway. But it was alright, and, for now, that was enough.

* * *

And that's nearly all folks! Just an epilogue to go…wow, this feels weird. The end of an era…thanks for reading, and I'll see you all on Monday! 


	51. July 31st, 1997

**BEFORE GOING ANY FURTHUR, CHECK YOU HAVE READ CHAPTER 50 – I DON'T THINK ALERTS WENT OUT LAST WEEK.**

So here we go. This is it. The final stretch. I sit on my bed at twenty past eleven at night, on Monday 26th November, and fill in the final chapter of a story that has taken up the past far too many years of my life.

Or not…

This is the end of the story, so to speak. BUT…there is one more chapter. A final instalment, as it were. And you get it as a Christmas present. Between then and now I'm going to go back and reedit all the chapters, cut, paste, SPELL CHECK etc, and then re-upload a totally revamped, (and hopefully improved) document on Christmas day, complete with final episode. You will all receive the chapter alert, if you have this on story alert, but the link may be dead – the edited version does not have as many chapters, although the word count isn't much different. Just click onto my profile, and find it there.

Until then…thanks so much to all of you for your help, comments, praise, criticism, thoughts, and for generally sticking with me throughout this rather epic adventure!

I hope you all enjoy this, the final/penultimate chapter. No review thanks this week, I'm afraid…I'm meant to be in bed. But I got and read them all, and very much appreciated they were.

So, for the last but one time…enjoy.

* * *

Harry James Potter woke on the morning of July 31st, 1996 and lay very still for several minutes. He could hear the pipes in the wall gurgling, the soft crooning of the hens scratching about in the early morning sun, and the murmurings of a radio floating up the stairs. All was quiet above; Izzy and Jane had been giggling long into the night, and would probably not been seen for a few hours.

Pulling himself up, Harry sat back, leaning against the headrest of his bed. One hand found his wand on its search for his glasses; a sudden rush of freedom prompted a muttered "accio glasses", and a feeling of pure elation when said glasses obediently arrived in his hands.

Suddenly feeling very content with the world, Harry smiled to himself and began the process of getting up. It would be a good day.

**HowThingsCouldHaveBeen**

And so it was. It would take more than the end of the longest war the Wizarding world had faced in many years to make Lily and James Potter forget the fact that they owed their son a good fourteen birthdays, and they were damm well determined to make the occasion of his coming of age as memorable as possible.

Breakfast was a raucous affair; two under-tens, two fairly hyper twelve year olds and a newly come-of-age wizard were not a combination for the faint hearted. Lily spent much of the meal threatening to confiscate her eldest sons wand if he did not stop levitating the dishes round the table _this instant_, while James laughed at her, and charmed her spoon to do a little jig when she wasn't looking.

Cam and Mark arrived, baring card and present, which was added to the growing pile on the kitchen counter; Harry was sure there were more presents there than all the presents he had received in his life put together.

Throughout the day, more people began to turn up, wandering in in drifts and drabs. The Weasleys, coming en masse; Hermione, arriving with her parents by floo shortly afterwards; Neville and Luna; Tonks and Lupin; Hagrid; and pretty much every member of the sprawling, strange family Harry Potter had built up around himself over the years.

The cake was a spectacular affair – a miniature quidditch pitch decorated in amazing detail. Icing students clad in red and green in the stands, 14 flying figures on choclate finger brooms, a purple-robed Dumbledore… it was, as Ron said, exact right down to the grease on Snapes hair.

Images from the day would stand out in Harry's mind, like the photographs taken by Gemma, who, for an eight year old, had a surprisingly good grasp of the art. True, fifty percent of her photos included half a finger over the print, or the blurred edges that indicated the excited girl had begun to move on before the picture was taken, but even those, in wizard photos, were not so disastrous.

Jack and Charlie Weasley covered in ice-cream; Mrs Weasley and Lily bringing out the cake; James levitating Paddy out of their path just in time to prevent disaster; Hermione, Izzy and Jane press ganging Ron into getting up on one of Cam's horses, after Jane discovered he had never ridden in his life; a few minutes later, of Ron on said horse, looking distinctly uncomfortable and a little bit sick; the garden as evening fell, lit by floating lanterns, people wandering round, talking, laughing; the firework show put on by Fred and George; Neville sprouting into a canary in the middle of it; one day of smiles and laughter, to be followed by many more.

**HowThingsCouldHaveBeen**

That night, Harry lay awake long after the rest of the house had fallen asleep. A soft wand light fell across the room from where he sat, picking out the shadows and corners of his bedcover, and giving Ron's hair a strange shimmer. Both he and Charlie were asleep on the floor, while Hermione and Ginny had moved in with Izzy and Jane upstairs.

For a moment, he thought back…one year, barely 365 days, ago, he'd been sitting in Privet Drive, counting down the days until September. So much had changed, so much had stayed the same…and next year, it would all be different again.

The object of Harry's attention was a photograph, developed only a few hours previously. Taken by magical hands, and so revealing every attendee of the day, arranged in a large group, but not posed, laughing at the camera.

He rolled over and propped the picture against his bedside lamp, where it joined a second. Not a photo, this one, but a sketch; a present from his mother. Ron, Hermione and himself, under the tree at Hogwarts where they had sat and worked so many times. It wasn't something they had posed for – Lily must have composed it from her own imagination, although how she knew about that particular tree Harry didn't know.

They were both beautiful images, in their own unique way, but, as he glanced once more at the sleeping body of his best friend, nothing in comparison to the real thing.

So much had been lost, so much had been so narrowly saved…the world was not a safe place – it never would be – but perhaps, now, there was time to enjoy it a bit more. Next year would not be normal, for with such a strange bunch of people around him, how could it be? But it would (hopefully) not involve a fight for his life, and somehow Harry figured that might be a nice change.

Removing his glasses, Harry snuggled down into his covers.

"Nox." He whispered, and the light went out.

**HowThingsCouldHaveBeen**

Spiral outwards now, out of the dark bedroom where the three friends sleep. See the house below you, shrouded in shadows, surrounded by dark garden. The horses in their fields, sleeping also, and a small white dot circling higher up the hill. Two houses, nestled in their hollow, the narrow lane leading down to the village, a lonely light in the distance where someone in the village is yet to sleep.

High, high above, watching over it all with an unwavering gaze, the Dog Star twinkles. If you look closely enough perhaps…perhaps…you might see it wink.

Far, far below, Harry Potter rolls over in his sleep.

And smiles in his dreams of how things could have been. And, of course, how they are.

* * *

Finis. Nearly.

As I said above, thanks so much for sticking with me through this, silent readers and especially faithful reviewers.

So, for the almost last time…please review?! As a birthday present, perhaps, as your authoress has reached the giddy heights of 18 today?

I'll see you all at Christmas, for a final look at How Things Could Have Been. Until then…

Nox.


	52. How Things Could Have Been

So, for the actual final time…hey folks! Long time no see…

Those who made the speration sweeter with their thoughts and opinions, and so earn eternal gratitude, were **Mei1105, Miriel's Heart, 2smrt4u, Broken Fire Hydrant, elphaba731, PSTurner, Viridian, saturndragon, NamelessHeretic, ballerinadoll9, Isis the Sphinx, steelkat, GinnyP0tter, kitcatofthenight, Cattatra, TxA-GunFighter, disneydork, armygundamgirl, nikkila, lemonwedges4, dingohart, Lily'sTwin, Nukenin, P.E.E.V.S.Y, tickledorange, LostHeart4, YuriyTalaIvanov, choirsinger, Nessa19 **and **NinjAlt.**

This has been an…interesting…chapter write – while I've known its contents since the beginning, the best way of setting it out was hard to decide upon. So the style is different to the rest of the story – hopefully, it won't put too many of you off!

Thanks to you all for sticking with me through this fairly epic tale – if nothing else, I can be fairly hopeful that my wirtting skills have improved due to it! I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've (occasionally!) enjoyed writing it.

So…here we go…last time round…

* * *

And so, my faithful reader, you may ask…what happened next? We last saw our friends, afterall, sleeping, as safe and happy as one can hope them to be.

Yet…we, who watched them over such crucial years of their lives, who saw how they started, how they grew and how they became…for us, the end is never enough.

A man once wrote a book called "The Never Ending Story". Perhaps it is wrong that a book should be titled so…because, really, every tale should be. And lo, I give you…not the end, not the epilogue, not the way it all finishes. More…a look at how things begin to turn out.

Boxing Day, 2019. All across Britain, Muggles and Magic folk alike are celebrating, with family, friends, life-partners and TV specials. Ignore most of them, for now, and come with me…over city and town and fields of cows…to a house, on the outskirts of a smallish village, with three chimneys and a tree house in one of the trees in the garden. And inside, chaos.

Through the walls - keep hold of my hand and we can pass with ease – and there we go. A sight for sore eyes.

Harry Potter, over thirty now, fully grown with none of the lanky awkwardness of his teens. But still so much the same – messy black hair, no grey yet, green eyes behind what look like the same glasses. He is standing at the foot of a flight of stairs, looking upwards and listening to the noise from above with a smile on his face.

He is alone, for the moment, so perhaps we may take a minute to look around? He will not mind, I assure you. We are in the hallway, front door to our left, kitchen behind us. Boots and shoes littered across the floor, and photos on ever surface. Hordes of red hair, intermingling with silver and black and brown, and (nearly) all of them smiling. Tinsel trails from every surface, and mistletoe is tied to the overhead light. Here, don't you agree, is a good place.

"Sirius Potter, put that down!"

Our friend winces as his wife's voice echoes down from above – not a true, tired wince, but more a wince of sympathy towards the object of her wrath.

Footsteps now, getting louder, and – look! A child on the landing above us. A boy, about twelve or thirteen, distinctly unruffled, cool as they come.

Harry raises an eyebrow. The boy raises one right back.

"What? I'm ready. Girls…they need to chill."

This statement is accompanied by a roll of the eyes, making his father smile. Friends, may I introduce you to Sirius Potter, second child and only son of Harry. With his fathers hair, his mother's eyes and his grandfather's smile, he is, according to Remus and James, his namesake's double.

"Well come down here and stay out the way then, at least." the boys father admonishes. "What are they doing up there, anyway? We're meant to be there."

Sirius shrugs. "Katherine's lost something. Lizzy spilt stuff on her robes. Jo's whining. Y'know. Girl stuff."

And the boy moves down the stairs, assurance and smoothness in every move. Not for him the awkward few years where arms and legs do not quite work together. Give him another year, and every girl in Hogwarts will be swooning over him.

Well, nearly every girl, that is.

"Daddy!"

A girls voice – top of the stairs again, just over your shoulder. Here is Jo, youngest of the four Potter children, so called because her mother had been convinced she was a boy. Red hair, dark eyes, her uncle Jack's snubbed nose, with her entire family wrapped around her little finger. Wearing blue today, she launches herself into her fathers arms, talking without taking a breath. Breathing, after all, is not really necessary when you are eight years old.

And here come the final three, two more girls being shepherded down the stairs by their mother. They shan't see us, don't worry, and there is no need to move out of the way, my dear – we are merely observers. Our presence cannot be felt.

Lizzy and Kathy Potter, just-fourteen and fifteen-nearly-sixteen respectively. Lizzy already possessing the calm and grace of one twice her age, none of the fire found in most of the family. This child, with light hair and clear eyes, a peacekeeper and dancer. And Kathy, the polar opposite – the true result of a Potter procreating with a Weasley. A mane of copper hair and eyes as green as her fathers, fire in her soul, among the eldest of the new generation of Weasleys, Potters, Lupins and all their extended acquaintances. Player of pranks, leader of her siblings and cousins, a joker and a laugher.

And now they are being ushered to the fireplace, disappearing one by one into green flames. Follow them, quickly, quickly, for we cannot travel that way without their help, and it is a long walk for anyone left behind…

Emerge into a room that should be very familiar, despite the changes it has undergone over the years. Tumble out of the same fireplace from which a distraught Hermione once stepped, into a mêlée of people. Spread out now, see who you can see – see who you can recognise. That man, with the grey hair and glasses, hugging Jo as she barrages him with yet more talk - James Potter, older, never wiser – and next to him his wife, greeting her daughter-in-law with equal affection. And there, on the sofa, two women deep in conversation. Such bushy hair can only belong to Hermione, of course, and next to her…perhaps it is right that Jane Bassey's hair has not greyed, for the crown of silver that still tumbles down her back is as shiny as her eyes.

Ron, of course, still lanky as ever, now with a brown-haired toddler in his arms, talking to Harry as though they have been separated for a year, and did not in fact spend the previous day together as well. Hermione will join them soon, and the three, that never really fell apart, will be as they should be.

Come away from familiar faces, now – come see who there is to be seen. See Jack, still with his snubbed nose, hair dark brown now, in close curls on his head. A blonde girl on his arm, looking slightly over whelmed by the mass of people around her – this is only Milly's second attendance to a full family/friend gathering. She is the first girl Jack has ever trusted his family with, and Lily is trying her very hardest to behave.

Sirius has retreated to a corner – there, see, behind the tree? Four young teens, black hair, blonde hair, and, slightly more unusually, blue hair and purple hair…no prizes for guessing the parentage of the boy and the girl with that particular topping. Teddy and Georgie Lupin, two of five, the only ones to inherit their mothers ability. And the fourth, another girl, Victorie Weasley, second child of Bill and Fleur. All four are in second year of Hogwarts, thick as thieves, as close as they come. Well, when the closeness isn't sealed by battling the forces of darkness, that is.

Leave them to their plotting, travel the room with me, and I shall tell you tales of those we see.

That is Jane, over there, stomach slightly rounded by her second child, Charlie on her arm. The pair have never married, having never really felt the need to – Izzy, determined to make up for it, put on the full works when she married Dennis Creevy a year after Charlie and Jane moved in together. Harry and her cousin may have made an uneasy truce all those years ago, but Izzy had never truly returned to her family, and it was the Stables she called home, and Charlie who gave her away at her wedding.

As for the final Potter child, nine years old when we last saw her…Gemma first started shocking her parents at the age of thirteen, when she announced she was going to be an animagus, and has not yet stopped. She first turned into a hare three days after her sixteenth birthday – exactly two months younger than her father had been when he managed it, much to his chagrin. Not for Gemma was a job in the Ministry, either, despite her brothers attempts to pull her into the aurors – too many holidays spent in the proximity of Charlie Weasley meant Gem Potter dreamt of nothing less than dragons. So perhaps no one should have been surprised when the pair returned home form Romania for a visit, and announced their engagement in the middle of Gem's nineteenth birthday party.

It would go down as one of the best moments in the extended group of family and friends memories – both Molly and Lily instantly burst into tears, while Fred a George, quickly overcoming any surprise they might have felt, turned to Jack and Jane respectively, and as one bent down on one knee and proclaimed undying love and wishes of marriage.

Might as well make a full set of it, after all, as Fred had pointed out later. Ginny had married Harry, and now Gemma and Charlie…why, Jane and Jack must be feeling quite left out.

Laughter coming from the middle of the room, just over your shoulder…see, identical red-haired men and a pink haired woman, being watched with a small amount of worry by an older, grey haired man with a smile on his face. Tonks has never changed the name she answers to, despite now being legally a Lupin. And neither has she changed her hair, which remains as pink as it ever was – perhaps slightly less bright, in recognition of her "maturer" years. With five children – two girls, three boys – she and Remus enjoy what James calls a fruitful, healthy marriage, and, on the whole, they manage to persuade the werewolf to overlook the fact that his children are younger than his best friend's eldest grandchild.

Angelina, who married Fred six months after the final battle, is talking to Molly. She no longer stands with the slightly lopsided stance bought about by the loss of her left arm, although it is still very much absent, and the two women talk of troublesome husbands and sons, of Christmas and of family. George remains unmarried, still living above the original shop in Diagon Alley, godfather to his twin's children, polluting their minds and leaving when they start crying, as his sister-in-law accuses him of doing.

As for the other founder of the Weasley dynasty? Arthur is still very much alive, currently deep in conversation with Mark, there, beside the fireplace. The two have formed a firm friendship over the years, sharing a love for meddling with anything and everything; today they are discussing Arthur's latest acquisition – an automatic drill.

And the woman who first saw the Potters, beaten, concussed, bruised but never quite broken? Cam is sitting in the same arm chair she has sat in on almost every visit she has made to the house in the past forty odd years, Izzy's one year old on her lap and Jane's three year old curled up beside her, watching the world around him with wide eyes. The room is full of children – don't worry about knocking one, they cannot feel our presence in a physical sense – for between them, the Weasleys, Potters and Lupins have produced over twenty-five, and they are far from finished. The younger ones run about, covered in sticky tape and mince pie and glitter, and the older ones "chat", and play games of their own, and tell tales of Hogwarts to their younger cousins.

It is noisy, it is chaos, it is messy…but, for these people, it is home, in it's own comfortable, familiar way. Though the families have spread far and wide, now, laying their own foundations, rooting themselves in other communities and countries, for Christmas, at the Burrow, and Boxing Day, at the Stables, and birthdays and every first of September, they gather together once more.

We must leave now – look, your fingers are beginning to fade. Ours is not to linger here, out of our time and place of belonging. There a people looking for you, wondering where you have wandered too, and we are no longer needed here. The tale has not been told – it is nowhere near its finish – but to do so would take far longer than my lifetime will allow.

Come now, away from the warmth and the laughter. Let us leave them to it, husband and mother and daughter and cousin…the world, for them, is a good place, for right now, the world is all inside that one room.

There go your feet, and your knees…you, my good lady, have already lost your arms. Home is calling, and home is where we should be.

Out the window, through the wall – they are no obstacle to us – into frosty air. Quickly, now – you must want to leave, or it will not work properly. Bid farewell to those whose lives you followed, if only for a few short months…you shall not meet again like this.

But…they are happy. They are safe and well and as whole as can be expected. Isn't that enough, really?

Up, into the night, towards the stars once more, and turn back for one last glimpse of the lighted house. It is a scene that could have been, and will be, and can never happen, all at once, because while we remember to dream anything is possible. Wave at the Dog Star as you pass, and know it winks in return…

And remember. Never mourn the ending, for, really…it is only the beginning of what is to be.

No doubt some of you will see them again. Their stories are in your hands from now on, after all.

* * *

And so, my friends, that is it. One take on many ways things could have been…farfetched, unlikely, but is that not what dreams are for?

The rest of the story is in editing – and one day, I will repost it all in finished (edited, spell-checked) format. Once exams are over, and I have time, perhaps…

It's been a great eighteen months – it's weird to think how much has changed since I first started this – and I sometimes can't believe how far this tale has come. To think, it once started with Harry rescuing Jane from being beaten up by Dudley in the park…

And now I'm going to walk to dog, down the same path I was travelling along when the first snippets of the idea fell into my head.

Merry Christmas, Hanukah, Pasta-Day, whatever you celebrate, whatever you don't…

Thanks, folk.

I'll see you around.

Emma Nelder  
14:33  
25th December 2007


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